


Erasing All This Body's Known

by disarm_d



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Little Less Sixteen Candles (Music Video), Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, M/M, Vampire Bites, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-29
Updated: 2008-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:12:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4478813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarm_d/pseuds/disarm_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"What the fuck?" Spencer says, once Brendon has walked away.  "Did you see--?  With the--?"  Spencer pulls his lips back and says, "Grrr."</i><br/>"With the him-being-a-vampire?" Ryan says. "Yeah, yeah I noticed that."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erasing All This Body's Known

**Author's Note:**

> Very, very loosely based on[ A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More "Touch Me"](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y-VifE8EK8w). So, that means vampires. 
> 
> Warnings for blood and sex and lots of biting, and other vampire related things including some (mostly off-screen) violence. Lots and lots of biting. I mentioned the blood thing, right?  
>  
> 
> Many thanks to proteinscollide & theaerosolkid for betaing. ♥

>   
>  I don't know when the boys  
>  began to walk away with parts of myself  
>  in their sticky hands; when loving  
>  became a process of subtraction. Or why,  
>  having given up what seems so much,  
>  I'm willing to lose even more — erasing  
>  all this body's known, relearning it with you.
> 
> Love Letter by Melissa Stein  
> 

 

 

 _one_.

Spencer isn't even surprised when Ryan comes storming over, making his way purposefully across the dance floor, to where Spencer is leaning against the wall and talking with a guy. Ryan's the most irritating kind of cockblocker in that he always looks so earnest -- well, as much as Ryan ever has facial expressions, anyway-- when he explains to Spencer how he was just trying to look out for him.

What does surprise Spencer is when Ryan holds out a cross -- how did he even manage to fit something so big into the tiny pockets of his jeans? -- and what really surprises Spencer is when the guy, Brendon, jumps back.

"You'd better run," Ryan says. "Pete and the others are going to be here any minute."

Brendon looks disbelieving, but the best thing about Ryan's monotone is that it really is hard to tell when he's bullshitting.

"Another time then," he says, tipping his hat at Spencer, before turning and _hissing_ at Ryan, and whoa-- Teeth! Very pointy teeth! Had those always been there? Spencer does not remember seeing any teeth when he was politely listening to Brendon talk by watching his mouth move.

"What the fuck?" Spencer says, once Brendon has walked away. "Did you see--? With the--?" Spencer pulls his lips back and says, "Grrr."

"With the him-being-a-vampire?" Ryan says. "Yeah, yeah I noticed that."

"What the fuck?" Spencer asks again. "A _vampire_? With _big teeth_?"

"Spencer," Ryan says. "I _told_ you about this. You've met Pete before."

"Pete is actually a vampire?" Spencer asks, shocked.

Ryan gives him an incredulous look. "Were you just not listening the first time I told you this?" he asks.

"Well, not really," Spencer says. "You were talking about vampires. I thought you meant, like, some weird role-playing goth thing."

"You thought I was into a 'goth thing'?" Ryan says. "Why the fuck would you possibly think that?"

"Well, you know, like that time you were into My Chemical Romance," Spencer says.

"My Chemical Romance isn’t _goth_ ," Ryan says, sounding mildly outraged.

"They do write song about vampires, though," Spencer says. "Yeah, that's right. I was listening there." He pokes at Ryan's shoulder. "Do do do vampires will never hurt you la la la," he sings.

"I should have let him bite you," Ryan says.

Spencer rolls his eyes.

"And anyway," Ryan continues, sounding sulky, "you've heard Fall Out Boy play. They don't make _goth_ music."

"Bands go in new directions," Spencer says. "One day it's a little guyliner, the next it's...A lot more eyeliner, I don't know how these things work exactly. Pete _has_ been looking really pale lately."

"Because he's a vampire!" Ryan shouts. Then he looks around. The club is crowded and noisy and no one gives them a second glance. "He's pale because he can't go out in the sunlight anymore," Ryan says, lowering his voice.

"I understand that _now_ ," Spencer says. He waves his hand vaguely. "You know, hindsight and whatever."

"I _told_ you," Ryan says, his lips pinching tightly together. "It isn't hindsight when someone tells you and you don't believe them."

"Hmm," Spencer says, looking around the bar. He kind of wants a drink; trying to be heard over the music is making his throat dry.

"And anyway, that guy was a Dandy," Ryan says. "How could you possibly not notice the way he was dressed?"

"Brendon," Spencer says.

"What?"

"His name is Brendon."

Ryan sighs. "Thanks. It's always great to know in case he rips your throat out in the future, and then I'll know the name of the guy you killed you, what the fuck, Spencer, I don't care what his name is."

"I did notice that he had very nice shoes," Spencer says. "But given that he was wearing nearly the same hat that you were wearing last week, no. No, I did not notice that he was dressed weird." Spencer makes a point of sweeping his eyes down over Ryan's latest waistcoat-and-multiple-scarves combination.

"Shut up," Ryan says. "Your shirt has glitter on it."

"Well," Spencer says. "At least we know for sure that I'm not a vampire."

\--

Spencer leaves soon after that. Somehow the knowledge that there are living dead walking among the actual living is enough to turn him off clubbing. Plus the part where Pete did show up, and Ryan totally ditched Spencer to fawn over him. Since Pete is apparently, in fact, a _vampire_ , Spencer doesn't really think that Ryan had to fuss so much about making sure that he always had a drink, but anyway.

As he walks down the street, Spencer manages to work himself into a really foul mood, and when someone steps out of the shadows, blocking his path, Spencer grits out, "You've got to be kidding me."

"That's not very friendly," Brendon says, smiling charmingly at Spencer. "And we were getting along so well before."

"Look," Spencer says, before he realizes that he doesn't know what to say. Brendon seemed cool when they were talking at the club. Spencer had ended up rambling about the percussion ensemble that he's playing in this semester, and Brendon had actually interjected enthusiastically, instead of nodding off like most people do when Spencer starts talking about his classes.

Brendon raises his eyebrow, all pointedly.

Spencer crosses his arms and thrusts his hip out to the side. "I'm really pissed off that you're a vampire. I was totally going to ask if you wanted to like, meet for coffee tomorrow or something, and now it turns out that you can't even go out when it's sunlight, and that's really annoying. Plus! I can't believe that you listened to me talk for two hours when you were just planning on killing me. That's like...even worse than a pity fuck." He glares at Brendon.

"How is that worse than a pity fuck?" Brendon asks, glaring right back. "I can't believe that you're _mad_ that I listened to you talk."

"Well, now I know you weren't actually listening," Spencer says. "You were just planning on how you could slice open my delicious arteries. It's like, I don't know. The creepy vampire equivalent of staring at my chest the whole time or something, and I don't even do that with girls."

"You don't stare at girls' chests?" Brendon asks, sounding disbelieving.

"No, I don't get _caught_ ," Spencer says. "And I totally don't secretly plan on drinking their blood while I'm pretending to listen to something that they care about, assface."

"I was _so_ listening," Brendon protests. "Did you see me staring at your throat? No, no you didn't. Because I was totally listening."

"Well, of course you're saying that now," Spencer says. "Now that I caught you. And you know what, screw you, because I didn't even care if you were listening. I just think you're a total dickhead for turning out to be a vampire."

Brendon blinks at Spencer for a minute, and then narrows his eyes, looking very intently over at Spencer. In his brainvoice, Spencer can hear _Brendon is totally hot, you should hook up with him._

"Oh my god," Spencer says. "Did you seriously just try and brainwash me? Is that what just happened there? You tried to control the way I was _thinking_. I already know you're hot, shit for brains. But I'm too fucking mad to die tonight, so you're just going to have to come find me another night, because I'm don't want the last thing I feel to be _totally pissed off_."

Then, he pushes past Brendon and stomps off to his apartment, which is only another couple of blocks away.

Both of his dogs are asleep when he gets in, and he nearly trips over Boba on the way to the bathroom. As he is standing in his bathroom, brushing his teeth, Spencer realizes that maybe it was kind of stupid for him to turn his back to Brendon. He was just too fucking mad over the fact that Brendon wasn't actually this awesome new person that Spencer could discuss drumming with that he didn't even think to be scared.

Spencer opens up his window, looking around suspiciously to make sure that Brendon isn't lurking in the shadows somewhere. He doesn't see anything, but regardless he says, "I'm still angry, so I'm locking the window, and you're better just fuck off for tonight," just in case Brendon can hear him.

\--

 _two_.

Now that Spencer knows about that thing where vampires are actually real, the "meetings" that Ryan keeps heading off to all the time have started to make a lot more sense. For one, Spencer probably doesn't need to put the quotation marks around 'meeting' anymore. People who hunt vampires totally have actual meetings. As opposed to the kind of people who _talk_ about vampires and have "meetings" late at night for other reasons.

Knowing that the meetings aren't "meetings", Spencer now feels comfortable in joining Ryan, as Ryan has been trying to convince him to do for months now.

"What's this meeting even about?" Spencer asks, for probably the tenth time.

"Coordination," Ryan says vaguely.

"Whatever that means," Spencer grumbles.

"These are dangerous times," Ryan says. "How are you not more freaked out about this? You were talking to a _vampire_."

Spencer shrugs. "Yeah, well you left your keys in your door, and then called me because you thought you'd lost them, and then, _then_ , when we heard noises coming from inside, you said, 'It's probably a raccoon,' and went inside anyway. Maybe I'm just used to my life being in danger."

"It was just my landlord; we were _fine_. I still can't believe you thought I was going goth," Ryan says, and then knocks sharply four times, then slowly twice, on the door.

"Real stealthy code you guys have got there," Spencer says, rolling his eyes.

"Huh?" Ryan asks.

Andy opens the door, then makes Spencer and Ryan stand outside for minutes afterward while he circles around the property to double-check that they hadn't been followed.

While Andy is shaking the bush on the side of the driveway, Spencer says, "I'm just going to go ahead and go inside now," and lets himself in through the front door.

"Spencer," Ryan hisses, and then just misses catching Spencer's sleeve as he tries to yank Spencer back.

Spencer walks through the entrance and looks around. The house looks like a house; Spencer wouldn't guess from the entrance that there are vampire hunters living here, or whatever the heck Pete and his gang are even called.

Ryan sighs at Spencer, and says, "It's not polite to just walk into other people's houses."

"It's not polite to leave people waiting on the front porch," Spencer says.

Finally, Andy comes back inside too, and leads them into the basement.

The basement is a little more menacing, what with the crossbows hanging on the wall and the fact that Joe is yelling loudly as he attacks a dummy with a long stick. Spencer edges around him carefully, wary that he's going to end up with a stick to the face, and flops down on the couch in the corner of the room. Ryan makes a beeline for Pete, and then Spencer has to spend the next fifteen minutes watching as Ryan looks at Pete from under his bangs and offers the occasional sarcastic comment.

Finally, Patrick comes in the room. Spencer is mildly irritated that he already knows all of their names, just from listening to Ryan talk, and from the huge number of Fall Out Boy shows that he has been dragged to. There's a reason why Spencer stopped listening when Ryan talked about Pete, and that reason was that Spencer really didn't need to know the names of Pete's parents, and also the part where the vampire thing seemed weird and creepy before he found out that the vampire thing was actually just scary and creepy.

Everyone settles in a circle as Patrick reads off some notes about something or another. Vampire sightings and kill rates and other boring things with numbers that don't mean a whole lot to Spencer. Is fifteen kills good? What is the baseline, anyway?

Spencer starts daydreaming about what would happen if his university was blown up, and he didn't have to go to class tomorrow. On one hand, it would suck not to be able to go to campus to use the practice rooms, but on the other hand: no class! Either way, it totally helps the meeting pass quicker.

When everyone is starting to pack up, Joe catches Spencer's eye and asks, "You want me to run through some self-defense basics with you?"

"That would actually be really awesome," Spencer says. "Thanks, dude."

Joe teaches Spencer how to duck and how to pull his hands free if someone catches him around the wrists and tries to teach him how to get out of a hold if someone has him from behind, but Spencer isn't too good at that one.

Spencer isn't dressed to sweat, but still there's something exhilarating about learning to use his body like this.

Joe walks across the room, and comes back with a stake in his hand, which he passes over to Spencer.

Spencer examines the sharp point, and Joe says, "Aim for just slightly to the right of the center of the rib cage. You want to pierce the heart."

Spencer frowns. "Do we have to-- I mean, do you really try and kill them? They were people, once. Isn't there something that--"

Joe tilts his head to draw Spencer's attention to the other side of the room where Pete is hitting a punching bag. He's shirtless, and Patrick keeps looking over at him, peeking up over the edge of the book he's pretending to read. Spencer can see that Pete is showing off, and that he keeps glancing over to make sure that Patrick is still watching him.

"There's no cure," Joe says. "Once someone is turned, there's nothing we can do for them. Kill them, or they'll kill you."

"But, Pete's not killing humans," Spencer says.

"It's different with Pete, but only with Pete," Joe says. "He takes these weird herbs and maybe he didn't finish changing all the way or something, I don't know, dude, but it's different with Pete."

Spencer tilts his head to the side and opens his mouth, but Joe cuts him off and says, "I know it's a lot to take in at first, kid, but you've just got to trust us on this. Pete's got his friends and his potions and whatever went wrong when he was first changed, and it's still a struggle for him, every day. There's no cure. It's easier if you, like, stop thinking of them as once being human. Whatever they were, that's gone now. They're not thinking of you as anything other than a tasty meal, I can promise you that."

Spencer nods, slowly.

"Fuck, it's stuffy in here," Joe says. "You wanna go to the backyard?"

"Yeah, okay," Spencer says.

'Going to the backyard' turns out to be a code from smoking up outside, and that's a-okay with Spencer.

He takes a long toke from the joint that Joe passes him and holds it in until his breath runs out.

"Hey, share," Ryan says, flopping down on the grass beside Spencer.

Spencer passes the joint over and waits until the world starts to go a little soft around the edges, until everything feels shifty and bright and the texture of the grass under his fingertips is all that Spencer can think about, all thoughts of vampires and kill-or-be-killed forgotten.

\--

 _three_.

Spencer goes to campus. He nearly falls asleep during music composition, so he runs to the caf in between classes. As he's leaving, coffee in hand, he runs into Claire, an oboe player, who promptly bursts into tears because of a guy who has stopped returning her phone calls. He just means to pat her shoulder, but she crumbles in for a hug and won't let go, and Spencer ends up with snot on his shirt and a cold cup of coffee. It's especially annoying because he and Claire hooked up once at the beginning of the semester, and _she_ wouldn't return his calls, but, somehow, seeing her with a blob of snot hanging out of her right nostril kind of feels like revenge enough.

Spencer gets stuck playing the fucking timpani part in orchestra, and he forgets the key signature for E-major during his weekly keyboard 'quiz', stupid fucking required class.

When he's done for the day, he sets up a kit in one of the practice rooms and pounds away until his shoulders ache with exertion instead of from tension.

He plays longer than he means to, and by the time he finishes, the sun has set. Spencer waits at the bus stop and wishes that his car wasn't broken, again. He sits next to a kid whose iPod is turned up loud enough that Spencer can hear it, and who smells pretty fucking rank, and Spencer _really_ wishes that his car wasn't broken.

He watches out the window, keeping his head turned away from the kid, like that will help with the odor maybe, and wonders if it would be worth it to teach lessons to kids and earn enough to fix his stupid car once and for all. Or to buy a new one, even. Spencer likes drumming and he doesn't hate children, but he does despise trying to teach things to them, which is why he hasn't started giving lessons, like almost all of the other music students do. There's a high school a few blocks over from campus, and it's never hard to find kids to teach.

Spencer steps off the bus and heads for home, walking on autopilot. When he hears footsteps behind himself, he moves to the outer edge of the sidewalk, making room for the person to pass. Whoever it is speeds up their pace, but doesn't actually pass Spencer. He looks beside himself, and says, "Oh, shit, you. Yeah."

"Me," Brendon agrees. He's wearing a dark green tie and a cream vest, but no hat tonight.

"I was kind of kidding about the you-killing-me thing," Spencer says. "I mean, if there's a choice between those two options."

"Between, like, killing you and just nibbling a little bit?" Brendon asks.

"I was thinking more between killing me and...not killing me," Spencer says. "But nibbling is a remarkably friendly word for 'suck your blood', so thanks for that."

"Yeah, no problem," Brendon says. "I probably can't kill you just yet, anyway, because Ryan probably told Pete about me, and then if you die they'll, like, target me or something, and that would suck. Also, William wants us to keep a low profile, and going after one of Pete's new pets would probably count as baiting him or something."

"I'm not a _pet_ ," Spencer says. "But, thanks, I guess. For now, anyway."

"Sure thing," Brendon says. He sighs. "There are a lot of rules and stuff, and it's pretty annoying. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that vampires are supposed to terrorize people for a while first anyway, so, you know. Watch your back, blah blah blah."

"You're 'pretty sure'?" Spencer asks. "What, are you new or something?"

"I'm two-hundred and fifty-seven," Brendon brags.

"How do you not know what you're supposed to do then?"

"Oh," Brendon says. "I know what I normally do, it's just that everyone has their own style, but now that Pete's little group is telling everyone about us, I guess there are going to be certain expectations or whatever."

"What's your style?" Spencer asks.

When he grins, Brendon looks pretty wicked, but not necessarily in a creature-of-the-night kind of way. Brendon grins and he looks wicked and a little cheeky, and he says, "Hey now, that would be telling."

\--

Brendon walks Spencer to his apartment, and Spencer says, "Well, this is me."

Brendon nods, tucking his fingers into his pockets.

"Wait, shit," Spencer says. "You already knew that, right? I didn't just lead you to my house?"

Brendon laughs, and Spencer can't help grinning back. He's not too good at this being-stalked thing.

"I already knew," Brendon reassures him. "How else would I know where to find you in the first place?"

"I don't know," Spencer says. "How _did_ you know where to find me?"

"Well, for one thing you were stomping really loudly," Brendon says. "Did you have a bad day or something?"

"Not exactly," Spencer says. "Just, like, I don't know. There are things to do, and I know what I'd need to do to get them done, but sometimes it's really hard to make myself go through the motions, I guess."

Brendon says, "Yeah," his head tilted to the side as he nods.

Spencer starts saying, "You know when you've already decided what you're going to do, but--" before he cuts himself off. "Hey!" he exclaims. "You're doing that thing again, with the listening. Stop it."

"I was not," Brendon says. "What the fuck?"

"Maybe it wasn't a pity fuck listen this time, but you're gathering information about your enemies, or something. You're listening with other motives."

"Spencer," Brendon says, slowly. "You totally do not even count as an enemy. Do you know how easy you'd be to kill? You learned about vampires and you didn't even think to go buy a cross."

"Ryan has some," Spencer says.

Brendon's eyes roll up in his head. "And do you expect Ryan to be coming along sometime _soon_?"

"Well, he usually comes at the most inopportune moment," Spencer says. "But I guess it's not impossible that he might come along now."

"It'd be like stealing marshmallow fluff from a baby lamb," Brendon says. "You totally don't count as an enemy."

"Hey," Spencer says. "You don't see me insulting your whole walking-undead thing, do you? There's no need to make this nasty."

"What would you even say?" Brendon squawks.

"Well other than that, 'Grr' thing, I wouldn't even know that you're a vampire. Plus, you haven't done anything weird or creepy or whatever." Spencer runs his fingers through his hair. "Not that was a suggestion, though, okay? Maybe pretend I didn't say that last part."

"Maybe pretend like you're not telling me how to scare you better?" Brendon deadpans. "Yeah, okay, I think I can do that. Anyway, I already told you: I don't need the help."

"So, you just, like, stalk and kill people all the time?" Spencer asks.

"I usually don't stalk them too much," Brendon says. "There's no need. Just a little, 'Hey, you want to go somewhere more private?' usually does the trick."

Spencer makes a face. "That's kind of tacky," he says. "Does that actually work for you?"

"It worked for me last night," Brendon says. "It's likely going to work again when I head off tonight."

"Oh," Spencer says, considering. "You bit someone else last night?"

"Well, I didn't bite you," Brendon says. "I have to feed."

"I guess," Spencer says. He shrugs off his backpack and sits down on the steps leading up to his apartment.

"What?" Brendon asks.

"I don't know. I just realized that I forgot my history of music text in the practice room and I have a midterm tomorrow, and there isn't time to make it to and from campus before the buses stop running."

"That sucks," Brendon says.

Spencer sighs. "Yeah. Anyway, don't let me keep you. I'm just going to wallow outside for a little while. I'm so fucking sick of sitting in my apartment."

Brendon shrugs. "I've got some time," he says, and settles onto the step beside Spencer.

\--

"It's not that I don't like Schubert," Brendon says. "I'm just saying that he's a little overrated."

"Dude, if everyone and their cat plays your pieces, it doesn't mean you're overrated," Spencer says. "It just means that you're a genius."

Brendon scoffs. "So, what's your jazz ensemble playing?" he asks.

"We got this new piece by-- oh, fuck, I forgot already. What's it called? Something Fighting Song? Fighting Song something? I can't remember. The bass part at the beginning is pretty sweet, but there's not so much to do with the drumming part."

"At least you don't have to play timpani for that," Brendon says.

"So true," Spencer says. "So true." He glances down on his watch, and does a double take when he realizes that it's past eleven. "I've still got some homework," he says. "I can't believe how late it is."

"Yeah," Brendon says. "I'd better take off." He stands up and dusts off the back of his pants. "I'll be watching you," Brendon says. "Or, I don't know. Until next time? Is that scarier?"

"I think that the scariest one is probably, 'I'm going to go kill someone right now because I need to eat,'" Spencer says, and then immediate wishes that he hadn't.

Brendon stares down at him without saying anything, before shrugging and looking away. He doesn't sound apologetic, not exactly, but there's something in his voice when he says, "Night, Spence."

Brendon turns and walks down the street, moving quickly and easily before disappearing into one of the shadows. Spencer watches until he can't see him anymore, then looks down at his hands, resting on his bent knees, and exhales slowly.

He pushes up to his feet and walks up the rest of the stairs, walks into his apartment.

\--

 _four_.

Spencer's bus is early and he gets to class before the professor. He doodles in his notebook for a little while, as the other students start trickling in.

The semester is going to be over in a month, and Spencer still hasn't said one word to anyone in this class, so he turns to the guy next to him and says, "Have you done the homework?"

"Nope," the guys says.

"Oh," Spencer says. "Me neither."

The guy gives a little nod, then turns on his iPod, shoving the headphones into his ears.

Spencer slumps down in his seat, already watching the clock and class hasn't even started yet.

\--

That night, Ryan calls and says, "We're going to a show tonight."

Spencer groans. "I'm pretty sure that Fall Out Boy songs are the soundtrack to my dreams now. Can we not?"

"Fall Out Boy isn't playing," Ryan says. "It's some band I can't remember opening for Empires."

"Who's Empires?" Spencer asks. He's pretty sure he's never heard of them before.

"Jon's friend Tom is in the band," Ryan says.

"Who's _Jon_?" Spencer asks.

"A guy who has a friend in a band," Ryan says. "I'll meet you at nine."

\--

Empires isn't quite as catchy as Fall Out Boy, which is fucking awesome because Spencer is so incredibly sick of having songs stuck in his head all the time. Spencer bops along with the beat from where he's standing, a few meters back from the stage. The club isn't all that crowded, but everyone there seems to have their undivided attention on the stage.

The set finishes and Spencer yells, "You want anything?" Jon is laughing hard at something that Ryan said and they don't answer, so he walks off to the bar by himself.

Spencer orders himself a beer, and considers bringing one back for Ryan and Jon as well, but decides that he doesn't have enough hands. He props himself up on one of the stools and finishes half of his beer in one long drink.

A blonde with sparkly purple eyeshadow stumbles, and Spencer reaches out to catch her arm.

She giggles, then looks over at him, before giggling again.

"Whoops," she says.

Spencer smiles and lets go of her arm.

She giggles again (the music is too loud for Spencer to actually hear the sound, but it's still obvious what she's doing), then leans in, closer than she needs to, and yells, "Hi!"

"Hi," Spencer yells back.

She doesn't move away, and yells, "How are you?"

"I'm good," Spencer yells. "You?"

"I'm kind of drunk," she says, but in the way where it's an invitation.

"Is that something you're...working on?" Spencer asks, which makes her giggle again.

She says, "Maybe," and then, "How about you buy me a drink?"

\--

They say maybe one hundred words to each other in the time it takes for Spencer to buying her three Malibu and Cokes, then they make out against the corner of the stage until Ryan and Jon come to collect him. Drunk girls are not very good kissers, but it actually tastes a lot better to make out with someone who's been drinking Malibu and Coke than someone who's been drinking beer, not that she seemed to mind the taste on Spencer's tongue. She sways unsteadily against him, but Spencer hasn't been touched in a long time, and it's something like a relief just to have another body pressed against him.

He kisses her again before he leaves, the press of her small body against his own, and wonders if he should try to ask her back to his place. Ryan and Jon are waiting though, and she seems like she might need a little coaxing, so even though he's pretty sure he could get her to say yes, he just lifts her hand, kisses the back, and waves goodnight.

"Oh, you're suave," Ryan says, as they would out into the cool night air.

"Shove it," Spencer says.

\--

The cab drops Spencer off a block from his apartment, and Spencer waves goodbye to Ryan and Jon, who are still sitting in the backseat.

Spencer wonders if the cab will have two more stops, or just the one. Jon seemed into Ryan, but Spencer still doesn't actually know if Ryan fucks guys. Every time Spencer thinks he's meeting Ryan's boyfriend, it turns out that Ryan's actually dating the blonde that shows up halfway through the night.

Spencer turns the corner towards his apartment, and rolls his eyes when Brendon steps out of the shadows.

"Ooh," Spencer says. "How frightening and mysterious."

Brendon scowls at him and makes a point of baring his teeth in such a way that they flash white in the moonlight.

"Oh, that was actually kind of creepy," Spencer says.

"Thanks," Brendon says, putting his teeth away and smiling. "You have fun tonight?"

Spencer makes a so-so hand gesture. "I liked the band," he says.

Brendon hums, "Mh-hm," and then steps into Spencer's space.

He tilts his head, leaning in close until he's just about touching Spencer's skin, and brushes his nose down Spencer's neck in a long line. Shivers pool in the base of Spencer's spine, and he forces himself to take a breath before stepping back.

"I can smell the...'band' all over you," Brendon says, looking at Spencer straight on.

"Yeah, well," Spencer says. He lifts his hand up and covers his neck with his palm. His skin is buzzing where Brendon touched him, and it's the strangest feeling. "Not _all_ over me," Spencer says.

"Yeah?" Brendon asks, taking another step closer.

Spencer forces himself to square off his shoulders instead of retreating backwards. He shrugs.

"Why not?" Brendon asks.

Spencer shrugs again.

Brendon actually waits for an answer though, and Spencer sighs, talking over to sit down on the steps in front of his apartment building, Brendon following behind.

"So?" Brendon asks, when they're both sitting.

"Just didn't feel like it, I guess," Spencer finally says. "Thanks for your concern though."

Brendon twists his body so that he can lean back against the brick wall, looking over at Spencer. "You've been drinking," he says.

"I have been drinking," Spencer says. He pushes the tips of his fingers into the concrete step. "I should have drank more or less though, because I'm still drunk, but not enough to pass out."

Brendon keeps watching him, and Spencer hopes that he isn't going to die, right out here on the front steps leading up to his apartment building. He wonders if anyone would hear him if he screamed; it's late, everyone's probably sleep by now.

Finally Brendon says, "I actually only planned as far as jumping out of the shadows. I really thought that was going to scare you more than it did."

"Sorry?" Spencer says, and Brendon waves his hand.

"No matter," Brendon says. "I'll come up with something else."

"I didn't see you until you jumped out," Spencer offers. "That was pretty stealthy, at least." He smiles at Brendon.

Brendon laughs, and Spencer isn't sure why. He stands, grinning down at Spencer, and says, "You're friendly when you're drunk. I'm sorry I have to go so soon."

"It's okay," Spencer says. He takes his hand when Brendon reaches out, and lets Brendon pull him up to his feet. Brendon's hand is dry and cool, and Spencer wonders if that's what Brendon's skin feels like all over.

"Things to do and whatnot," Brendon says, somewhat apologetically. Still, he stands on the sidewalk and waits until Spencer has the door open before he turns and walks away.

\--

 _five_.

Spencer goes to class, listens to his professor drone on about the different modes or modal something or another for fifteen minutes, then sneaks out the back door to find a drink of water. Then, he goes to the washroom. After that, he thinks that maybe he's just go low blood sugar, so he wanders off in search of a vending machine. He doesn't want to make noise in class, so he sits on a bench in the hall and eats his Munchie Mix. By the time he's done, there's only another twenty minutes of class left. It seems like there's no point in going back in, so Spencer just hangs around in the hallway until people start leaving the lecture hall, then sneaks back into the room to grab his clipboard.

He leaves campus and tucks in at the coffee shop near his apartment, trying to get some studying done for the midterm that he has tomorrow. History of music is fucking boring to study, and he wouldn't take it, except that it's a required class. Spencer's one of the only people there who's sitting at a table by himself. He wonders if it would be easier to study in a group. He wonders how he's supposed to meet people to form a group with, anyway. In a class of two hundred plus kids, it's hard to make any kind of personal connection. Plus, every time he tries, it turns out his classmates are assholes. Spencer thought going to college was going to be this life-opening experience, but he still just hangs out with Ryan all the time.

Spencer turns up his iPod loud to try and block some of the chatter of the shop, and ends up spending more time listening to music than actually studying. He buys an overpriced sandwich for dinner, and another latte. He tells himself that he can go home if he finishes to the end of the chapter, but ends up packing up before he's even half done.

When Spencer gets home, he finds Brendon sitting on his floor, playing with his dogs.

"I guess the whole needing-to-be-invited-in thing is just a myth," Spencer says, throwing his keys into the dish by the door.

"Oh, yeah," Brendon says. "Maybe it was true centuries ago, when it was more clear who actually held property, but these days, it's pretty hard to find a place that I can't get into. Apartments are kind of bottom of the barrel, if you're hoping to keep a vampire out."

"Huh," Spencer says. "Vampires don't respect renting?"

Brendon laughs.

"What are you going here, anyway?" Spencer asks.

"Oh," Brendon says, looking sheepish. "So, I thought that maybe I'd come in and, like, hang your dogs in the shower or something."

"Milo, Boba!" Spencer calls, trying to urge his dogs away from Brendon. They look up, but don't move away.

Brendon pats Milo on the head. He says, "Oh, don't give me that look, I obviously didn't follow through."

Spencer's face twists up. "What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?" he yells. "You can't come into someone's house and kill their fucking dogs, you fucking retard."

"Well, I _can_ ," Brendon says. "Since I'm a fucking vampire. And lower your voice, so that I don't have to kill your neighbours when they knock on the door to find out what the problem is."

"Get the fuck out of my house," Spencer says. "Ryan's coming over tonight, and if he finds my body, Pete will be the first person he calls."

Brendon stands up and walks over to Spencer. He isn't tall, but his eyes are flashing almost red, and when he gets into Spencer's space, it's all Spencer can do not to take a step back.

"You should stop being so _stupid_ ," Brendon says, his face twisted back into a snarl that shows a whole lot of teeth.

"You should stop being such an asshole," Spencer says, but slowly he can feel the anger draining out of his body. It's easy to be scared and angry at the same time, but Spencer's moving into panicked and scared, and it's hard to hold onto anger on top of that. "Coming in and say, saying the shit you were saying about my dogs."

Spencer knows that his voice is trembling a little bit, but all that he can think of is what it would have been like to come home and find his dogs dead. When Spencer is low on money, he buys the dog food first and then sees what is left over for groceries.

Brendon's eyes are still doing the weird glowing thing, but he sighs, and steps back the half-inch it takes for Spencer to stop feeling like he's being crowded.

"It was just a thought," Brendon says. "You have really nice dogs, okay? I wouldn't actually do anything to them. Vampires can't drink animal blood; we don't have anything against pets."

Spencer nods tightly, and then wraps his arms around his torso. As the adrenalin drains, he's left feeling shaky and cold.

He says, "When you kill me, you have to let the dogs out, or something. Give them a chance to find someone new to take care of them. I know I can't ask you to take them over to Ryan's, but at least you can't leave them locked in here, okay?"

"Yeah," Brendon says, softly. "Yeah, okay, I'll do that."

"Promise?" Spencer asks.

"I won't leave them to starve," Brendon says. "I wouldn't have anyway, but, seriously. I won't."

"Thanks," Spencer says. He wishes that his hands would stop shaking.

Brendon nods, and his eyes don't seem to be glowing any more, even though Spencer can still see the sharp ridge of his teeth.

"Are you going to kill me tonight?" Spencer asks.

Brendon shakes his head and sighs. "No, Spence, not tonight."

"Okay," Spencer says, then walks stiffly across the room to sit on his couch. His knees are feeling all weird and rubbery. He leans against the arm of the couch and then pulls his feet up under him.

Brendon says, "I'll go now." He walks over to Spencer and, standing beside the couch, reaches out to give Spencer's arm a little squeeze. "I'm really not going to do anything to your dogs."

Spencer exhales. "Okay," he says. Then, "Thanks." Then, "If you're not going to kill me, I kind of have a midterm tomorrow that I need to study for."

He sits in pointed silence until Brendon lets himself out the front door.

\--

Spencer's fucking tired, tired and drained and really ready to sleep, but when he gets into bed, he can't manage to drift off. His body stays all wired, listening for sounds in the night. He calls both of the dogs into his bedroom, even though he usually makes them sleep in the hall. It helps to know they're there, but having them in the room means that there are more noises through the night, every time they stand or move or roll over, and each sound makes Spencer's skin prickle.

He should just get up and try to fit in some last night cramming, but Spencer stubbornly stays in bed, awake, for the entire night, hoping that he's going to fall asleep, without actually managing to do so.

When the sun rises, he walks to his kitchen and drinks a glass of water. Then, he lies down on the couch and stays there for the rest of the day, skipping all of his classes.

\--

 _six_.

After a few more nights of tossing and turning, Spencer calls Ryan to come over, hoping for some distraction.

Ryan does him one better, and shows up with his bong and a dimebag of weed.

"I knew there was a reason why I keep calling you," Spencer says. "I'll go find some beer."

\--

Spencer doesn't know why he's laughing, but he has his hand pressed flat to his own chest, and he can feel the vibrations, the way his stomach clenches up each time he giggles.

"It's all shifty," he says to Ryan, who ignores him in favor of trying to get his pair of huge sunglasses to balance on top of his head. "Why did you even wear those?" Spencer asks, aware of the way his words are slurring a little. "It's _night_."

He almost expects Ryan to break out into song -- Spencer's brainvoice is singing away happily -- but Ryan just grins, then blinks, than says, "Wait, what did you just say?"

"I need to eat something," Spencer says. It's hard work, but he manages to climb up to his feet. The carpet is so soft between his toes, _squish, squish, squish,_ as he walks over to the kitchen. It's like he's walking on cotton candy, kinda.

He whispers to himself, "Squish, squish," and treads carefully on his way to the kitchen.

\--

Ryan lies on the floor and squints up at Spencer. Spencer reaches out his toes to try and poke Ryan in the forehead. He can't quite reach though, and he sighs.

Ryan makes a smug face at him, then rolls over, sitting up and saying, "You okay?"

Spencer nods. "'m good," he says.

"Not, like, _now_ ," Ryan says. "Like _always_."

Spencer tilts his head to one side, but it doesn't help Ryan's words make any more sense, so he tilts his head to the other side. That doesn't work either.

"I'm good," Spencer says again. "How are you?"

Ryan smiles. " _I'm_ good. I just finished this story, right? About a guy who has a calendar business, and then he learns how to reinvent love," Ryan says. "There are _metaphors_."

Spencer grins, and he says, "That's awesome, Ryan. You should let me read it."

"It still has to be workshopped," Ryan says.

"No, no, I want to read it before then," Spencer says. "You always get all bummed out about your stuff after workshops. I want to read it while you still like it."

Ryan says, "I _do_ still like it." He runs his fingers through his bangs, smiling to himself. "I wonder if you will like it?" he ponders, stretching the words out.

Spencer shakes his head a little, still smiling.

\--

Ryan leaves, and Spencer is sitting on his couch eating Nutella straight out of the jar when he hears a knocking on his window. He stands up and makes his way over, opening the window and squinting outside.

"How did you even get up here?" Spencer asks, awed.

Brendon gives him a look and says, "The fire escape."

"Oh yeah," Spencer says. "Yes. Right. Also, you can't fly."

"Nope," Brendon says. "Are we just doing an inventory?"

Spencer makes a face and asks, "What are you even talking about?" and Brendon throws his head back and laughs. Spencer watches his throat, then catches himself, hoping that Brendon isn't doing the same to him.

Spencer traces his fingers along the windowsill, getting distracted by the feel of the wood under his fingertips.

"Spencer," Brendon finally says, and Spencer's head snaps back up.

"Yeah?"

"I, umm--" Brendon crosses his arms over his chest and puffs out his cheeks. "I didn't come to scare you tonight," he eventually says.

Spencer keeps touching the window sill. "Okay," he says. He wonders if Brendon knows that he hasn't been sleeping. Even now, with his head all soft and mellow, Spencer can feel his palms starting to sweat.

"Just-- Can I come in?" Brendon asks.

"Thought you didn't need an invitation," Spencer says, looking at his hands, not at Brendon.

"I don't," Brendon says. "But I'm asking."

Spencer exhales, then steps back from the window to give Brendon room to crawl inside. The dogs are hiding in Spencer's bedroom -- they don't like the smell of smoke -- and Spencer's glad that they aren't in the room when Brendon's steps through the window.

Spencer walks back to the couch, curling up and grabbing the Nutella again. He dips the back of the spoon inside, then licks chocolate off the handle.

"Why don't you use the spoon part?" Brendon asks.

"I don't want to get too much," Spencer says. "That would be gross."

Brendon snorts. "Right, of course. My bad."

"You want some?" Spencer offers, and Brendon shakes his head no.

\--

"What's it like to be bitten?" Spencer asks. He doesn't really mean to ask, but the weed is making him a little bit jittery, or maybe that's just because he's coming off his high, or maybe it's the beer, whatever. He doesn't mean to ask, but there the words are, anyway.

Brendon looks at him for a long moment. "It depends on the person, I guess. Depends on who's doing the biting."

Spencer looks down, and then nods. He doesn't ask any more questions.

He sits quietly, his head resting against the back of the couch, and slowly his eyes start drooping shut. He catches himself each time, forcing himself to blink awake again. Brendon is still and quiet on the other end of the couch, which maybe should be unnerving, but is something like a comfort. Maybe it’s because when Brendon's here, Spencer doesn't have to wonder where he is, doesn't have to wonder what he's doing.

Brendon sits on the other end of the couch, cross-legged and facing forward. He turns his head towards Spencer, and Spencer watches out of the corner of his eye, wary. Brendon doesn't say anything for a long time, and Spencer's eyes start drooping again.

Eventually, Brendon says, "You're tired; you should sleep more."

Spencer turns his head to give Brendon a pointed look, then leans back against the couch again.

"I'm not going to do anything when you're sleeping," Brendon says. "Don't look at me like that."

Spencer looks over at him again, in exactly the same way.

"I'm _not_ ," Brendon says. "It's not exactly great fun to sneak up on a sleeping person. I'd want you awake and wiggling."

Spencer stares until his eyes go dry. He blinks, and just-- He blinks again, and the hysterical giggles rise out of his chests and he laughs and laughs until there are tears in his eyes, and then he holds his hand over his mouth to try and keep the sounds back in.

He coughs into his fist and says, "You're not very comforting."

Brendon shrugs, unapologetic.

Spencer curls up in the arm of the couch, his head resting on one of the throw pillows. The couch is big enough that his feet don't touch Brendon, still sitting at the other end.

"Are you finally going to get some sleep?" Brendon asks.

"Not while _you're_ here," Spencer says.

Brendon shifts, crossing his legs, and they settle back into silence.

\--

When Spencer wakes, the sun has risen and his neck hurts like a motherfucker from sleeping against the arm of the couch. Spencer flies to his feet, looking around the room, but Brendon's obviously long gone. Spencer wonders when he dozed off, how long he's been asleep for.

He runs to the bedroom, where the dogs are curled up together. They're sleeping, just sleeping. They're fine.

Spencer walks around his apartment. He doesn't know what he's looking for, and eventually just makes his way to the bathroom, dry swallowing three aspirin and walking back to his bedroom. He hopes that when he wakes up again, his head doesn't hurt so badly.

\--

 _seven_.

Spencer doesn't see Brendon for a week, and then there he is again, waiting in front of Spencer's apartment when Spencer comes home, arms loaded up with grocery bags.

Brendon reaches out to take a couple from him, and Spencer passes them over, doesn't make a fuss when Brendon follows him up to his place.

Spencer puts away the things that need to be refrigerated while Brendon wanders his apartment, not touching anything, but peering around with interest. Spencer wonders if this means that Brendon didn't snoop when he was here, alone, the last time.

"What are these?" Brendon asks. Spencer can't see what he's holding, so he leaves the rest of the groceries and walks to the living room.

Brendon holds up Spencer's small stack of piano repertoire.

"All of the music majors have to learn piano," Spencer says, taking the books from Brendon. "You need to, to graduate, which blows, since I fucking _suck_."

"You don't have a piano," Brendon notes, looking around the room.

"No," Spencer says. "I don't even have room to set up my drums in this shitty place. The neighbours would complain, anyway. I practice on campus. Well, I've got a practice pad that I can use here, but, yeah. I definitely practice piano on campus."

"You're not very close to the university," Brendon says.

"Nope," Spencer says. "And when I'm there, I'd rather work on something percussion related. I guess there's a reason why I suck so bad."

"I have a piano," Brendon says.

"Cool."

Brendon looks around Spencer's apartment one more time, then says, "You can practice on mine."

Spencer laughs. "I doubt that either of us would want that," he says. "I wasn't kidding when I said that I sucked."

"I can show you some stuff," Brendon says.

"You play?"

Brendon nods.

"I guess in two hundred and whatever years, you pick up a few things along the way," Spencer says.

Brendon shakes his head and says, "No, I learned when I was a boy. I've learned other instruments over the years, but I've played piano for as long as I can remember."

"I managed to convince my parents to let me play drums instead of piano," Spencer says. "I thought I got away with something, but I guess everything catches up with you in the end."

Brendon gives him a little smile. "Well, come on then," he says.

"Wha-at?" Spencer stutters. "Now? Come to-- Go to your place? With you? _Right now_?"

"Sure," Brendon says. "When's your next recital?"

"We have playing tests every Friday, but, I mean. I don't know that--"

"Spencer," Brendon says. "I could kill you here just as easy as I can kill you at my house. Except that if I kill you at my place then I'll have to clean up the mess, and I fucking hate cleaning. Now stop being a dick about this."

"You still aren't very comforting," Spencer says, but he follows Brendon when Brendon starts walking to the door.

"I'm not trying to be comforting," Brendon says. "However, I can help you pass your playing thing."

\--

Brendon's condo is about a twenty minute walk from Spencer's apartment. It's nice, way nicer than anywhere Spencer's ever lived, but other than the thick curtains covering all of the windows, Spencer would never have guessed that it's the home of a vampire. There are no dead bodies, for one.

Brendon has a grand piano in the living room and an upright in his den. He has a music room with guitars hanging across the entirety of one of the walls. There's an upright bass in one corner and what looks like an accordion in the other. A couple of cellos lie down on the floor.

"Jesus," Spencer says, after Brendon finishes giving him the tour. "Can you really play all of these?"

Brendon nods. "I like music," he says. "The world keeps on changing, but music is the one thing that I can always hold with me."

"Do your neighbours mind you playing so late at night?" Spencer asks. "I wouldn't image that you're up too much during the day."

"The walls are soundproofed," Brendon says, casually. "So, which piano do you want to play?"

Spencer swallows, then gestures down to hall towards the den. "The upright. I don't think I'm quite up to a grand yet."

\--

Brendon, as it turns out, is secretly in cahoots with Spencer's professors. It's the only thing that can possibly explain why he makes Spencer sit at the piano for an hour and fifteen minutes -- an _hour_ and fifteen minutes-- and practice scales the entire time. Scales! The entire time!

Spencer's pinkie hurts by the end of it, and his back, but at least his hands seem to know how to play E-major, even if his brain takes a little longer to come up with the key signature. Spencer wishes that there was just one scale that they were asked to play in different _time_ signatures. He would rock the shit out of that kind of playing test.

He rolls his shoulders and groans loudly when his shoulders pop.

"You have terrible posture," Brendon says, which is something Spencer has heard, word for word before, from his grey haired piano professor. "You need to sit up straight."

Spencer glares, then stands up off of the piano bend, stretching his hands up to the ceiling and trying to stretch out his back.

Brendon sits on a chair beside the piano, and makes I-told-you-so eyes at Spencer.

"You play something," Spencer says.

Brendon moves from the chair to the piano bench and looks down at the keyboard. He plays this weird piece that Spencer's never heard before. It's kind of classical, but mostly sounds like something that one would hear at a carnival. It's kind of beautiful.

"What was that?" Spencer asks when Brendon finishes.

"A song," Brendon says, shrugging.

"I thought you were going to play Moonlight Sonata or something," Spencer says.

Brendon plays the first few bars, then stops, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not that clichéd," Brendon says.

Then, he pounds out Music of the Night from _Phantom of the Opera_ while Spencer laughs.

\--

Spencer stands in Brendon's kitchen and drinks a glass of water. Brendon has glasses, but nothing to drink. Spencer's scared to open the fridge to check, but he thinks that it's just empty.

"It's late," he says, looking down at his watch. He finishes the water then sets the glass on the counter. "Thanks for, you know, the piano lesson."

"Sure thing," Brendon says. He follows Spencer when Spencer walks to the front door, but once they're there, he starts to put on his shoes.

"What are you doing?" Spencer asks.

"Walking you home."

"It's cool," Spencer says. "I remember the way back. There's no need for you to come."

Brendon looks over at Spencer and shakes his head. "You think that I'm the only vampire that lives around here?" Brendon asks. "If I'm not killing you tonight, no one is."

Spence can feel his eyes go wide. His voice cracks when he says, "Um, okay. Right then. Off we go."

\--

Spencer stands awkwardly at the door to his apartment building and says, "So, thanks, I guess. Goodnight."

"Night," Brendon says, but he doesn't move away. He's standing just on this side of too close, and Spencer hunches his shoulders, curling in on himself.

Brendon takes another step closer, close enough that Spencer can feel their clothes brushing. He leans in, his face brushing Spencer's cheek, and Spencer freezes. His heart pounds wildly, but his breath stays trapped in his chest. Spencer holds completely still, but Brendon just pushes up on his toes a little until he can reach, and pecks Spencer on the cheek.

He pulls back, and Spencer's breath comes whooshing out loudly.

"Sleep well," Brendon says, then turns and walks off into the night.

Spencer fumbles with his keys, and has to stand for long minutes, waiting until his hands stop shaking enough that he can let himself in. He presses his forehead against the door and waits for feeling to return to his legs.

\--

 _eight_.

Spencer aces his playing test, then spends most of the weekend bumming around. He goes to a movie with Ryan and Jon on Saturday, but other than that he doesn't leave his apartment except to walk his dogs, so there's no reason why he should be so tired on Monday that he just stays in bed instead of going to class.

Tired isn't even right though. He just-- doesn't want to get up. So he doesn't.

He pushes the comforters away and lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling until he falls asleep again. He sleeps until three, then finally rolls out of bed, though mostly just because he's hungry.

He eats three bagels, feeds the dogs, and half-heatedly pokes around his apartment. He needs to vacuum, but his head hurts from sleeping too long, and he doesn't want the noise.

He clips the dogs onto their leashes and takes them for a long walk, eventually tying them to a bike rack when he runs into a cafe to grab some supper. He feeds them what is left of his sandwich and finally heads back home.

\--

On Wednesday, Spencer realizes that he's gone at least seventy-two hours without actually talking to anyone. He made it up to campus a couple of times, but didn't run into anyone he knew on the way to the practice room, and didn't have anything to add to the class discussion during the lecture he attended.

He wonders if maybe he should give Ryan a call, but he thinks that Wednesdays might be the day that Ryan goes for meetings at Pete's house, and Spencer really, really doesn't want to go to another one of those.

Spencer's actually a little surprised that Ryan hasn't called to invite him to it so he goes to check his cell phone, which, it turns out, is out of batteries. Spencer just sets it back on the bedside table without plugging it into the charger. He'll check his messages in the morning.

Spencer wonders how many days it's been since he's seen Brendon. From what Spencer heard from Ryan, before his phone died, there's some kind of trouble between the Punks and the Dandies. Spencer doesn't really know what that's supposed to mean. Apparently Pete and the others aren't that worried about it; better to let the vampires kill each other than to interfere.

He leaves his window open so that he'll be able to hear it if Brendon climbs up his fire escape again.

\--

Spencer is watching reruns of _Seinfeld_ on TV when someone knocks at his door. He doesn't look through the peephole before answering. Ryan stands in the hallway, looking unimpressed.

"I thought you were dead," he says, pushing past Spencer and into Spencer's apartment.

"No you didn't," Spencer says, closing the door again. "You thought I was ignoring you, which would bother you even more."

"Your phone is out of batteries," Ryan says, without bothering to respond to Spencer. "Don't know if you noticed that." Ryan marches over to Spencer's bedroom, and Spencer can hear him searching around through drawers until he finds the phone charger. He comes back out, phone in one hand and charger in the other and makes a point of plugging the phone into to wall.

"There," Ryan says. "Since apparently that was too difficult for you to manage on your own."

"Thanks," Spencer says, dryly.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ryan says.

"I think I'm coming down with something, maybe," Spencer says.

"Have you been going to class?" Ryan asks.

Spencer shrugs.

"Look," Ryan says. "It's almost the end of semester, and I know you've got--"

Spencer cuts him off. "Thanks for the concern and all," he says. "I'm sorry we can't all be as fucking dedicated to our art as you are."

Ryan's either an English major, or a Creative Writing major, depending how frustrated he is feeling by the workshops. Either way, he's carries a notebook around with him, and he never misses class except when he's hung over, and he can be really fucking smug about it, sometimes.

"If you hate school so much, just take a year off and work," Ryan says. "Stop wasting your student loan, if you're not even going to pass your classes."

"I'm going to pass," Spencer says, firmly, though he's not actually as sure of that as he sounds.

"There's nothing wrong with taking a year off," Ryan says. "Jon takes semesters off all the time."

"Well, good for him," Spencer says. He knows he's being petulant and he doesn't really care. Sometimes seeing Ryan is hard because Ryan still remembers everything that Spencer said when he was growing up, about how he was going to play with the symphony or drum for a rock band, and either way he was going to _do_ something. Ryan's another reminder about how Spencer _isn't_.

"Did you get your car fixed?" Ryan asks, randomly.

"No," Spencer says. "I'm going to."

"It's been six months," Ryan reminds him.

"Yeah, I know. What's your point?"

"No point," Ryan says. "Just an observation."

Spencer briefly considers getting angry at Ryan, but there's nothing to be gained by it. "I'm just in a bit of a funk," Spencer says, in what he hopes is a soothing voice. "It'll be fine."

Ryan huffs at him.

"I'm sorry I didn't charge my phone," Spencer offers.

"Yeah, well," Ryan says. "Cut that shit out."

"Okay," Spencer says. "You want something to drink?"

"Fine," Ryan says, walking over to Spencer's refrigerator and helping himself to the last beer.

\--

Ryan leaves before it's too late because he has to pick up Jon from work. He tries to get Spencer to come with him, but Spencer says that he's just going to have an early night.

"Keep your phone charged," Ryan says before he leaves.

"I will," Spencer says.

"I'm not good at this shit," Ryan says. "You're supposed to be the one who reminds me to pay my phone bill. They disconnected me last week, and Jon had to help me get it set up again."

"I'm sorry," Spencer says, his gut churning with guilt. "I don't mean to-- I mean, I'm not trying-- I mean, I _am_ trying, it's just not-- You know?"

"I know," Ryan says. He curls one hand around Spencer's shoulder, and Spencer pats Ryan's back, gently.

"Thanks for coming by," Spencer says.

"You know I'll always come for you," Ryan says, doing his best impression on maniacal laughter. 

"Me, too, okay?" Spencer says. "I'll come for you to."

"Just start picking up your damn phone," Ryan says, then waves goodbye over his shoulder as he walks down the hall.

\--

Spencer does mean to go to bed early, but when he heads to the bathroom to wash up, he realizes that, since he woke up at two, he hasn't even been awake for twelve hours yet. He feels lethargic, but not sleepy, so he doubles back from the bathroom, and returns to his vigil in front of the TV.

In the middle of an episode of Family Guy, Spencer hears a voice saying, "Knock, knock," and looks over to see Brendon sticking his head through the open window.

Spencer raises his hand in a little wave, and Brendon takes that as invitation to climb through the window.

"Wow," Brendon says, looking around the room. "It's a party in here." The coffee table is full of dirty dishes, as Spencer has been eating in front of the TV more often than not. There are some dirty clothes on the floor, and Spencer isn't actually sure how they got there. He also isn't sure when he last showered.

He flips Brendon off, then looks around for the remote control. He can't figure out where it went, so he stands up and walks over to turn off the TV.

Spencer sits back on the couch, and Brendon comes over and sits beside him, closer than he needs to be. Spencer doesn't mind the proximity, though. He called his dogs up onto the bed last night, just for want of some warmth in his huge bed. Not that Brendon's body is ever warm.

"How did your piano thing go?" Brendon asks.

Spencer blinks, surprised that Brendon still remembers. "It went good," he says. "Thanks for your help."

Brendon nods. "Do you have another one, soon?"

"Yeah, on Friday," Spencer says, neglecting to mention the one that he had last week that he just didn't bother going to.

"You want help again?" Brendon offers.

Spencer hadn't really planned on going to this one either, but he ends up says, "Sure. If you don't mind."

"Come over tomorrow or something," Brendon says. "You remember where I live?"

"Yeah."

"And take a cab," Brendon says. "Don't walk by yourself at night."

"Okay, okay," Spencer says, rolling his eyes.

"I'm serious," Brendon says. "There's been a bunch of shit going down. Lots of creepy crawlies out at night."

Spencer laughs, and doesn't bother pointing out the irony of Brendon saying something like that.

Brendon glances at his watch, and says, "I should probably head out before too long. The sun will be up soon."

Spencer looks at his own watch, and says, "Huh," surprised that it's so late already.

"What, you don't sleep at night anymore?" Brendon asks.

"Guess not," Spencer says. "My internal clock is all fucked up."

Brendon stands and Spencer does the same. He says, "Stop using the fire escape," and starts steering Brendon towards to door with a hand to his elbow. Spencer realizes what he's doing, and drops his hand away quickly.

"I'm not going to decide to kill you, just because you touched me," Brendon says in a low voice.

Spencer swallows. "Okay," he says. "I mean, I know. I mean-- When are you going to kill me?"

Brendon stares at him, and his eyes are glowing a soft yellow, which is creepy, but not as scary as when they were red that one night. Brendon just says, "Not tonight." Then, “Are you going to finish walking me to the door?"

Spencer nods.

Brendon never bothered to take off his shoes, so once they're at the door, Brendon is all ready to go. Instead of opening the door though, he leans against the wall, and says to Spencer, "Come here."

It's a little less scary when Spencer's the one closing the distance between them, though maybe it would be easier if it were Brendon who was doing so. Spencer takes small steps forward until he is close in front of Brendon. Spencer is slouching, but with the way that Brendon leans back against the wall, Brendon is still noticeably shorter.

Brendon reaches a hand out, curling around the back of Spencer's neck and urging him closer. Spencer's heart is beating so hard that he's sure that Brendon can feel it, pumping beneath the skin. It's better if Spencer doesn't think about Brendon knowing the way Spencer's blood is pumping though, so he tries not to focus on that thought.

Spencer leans in a little, but not quite all the way. Brendon pushes up, coming the rest of the way, and maybe his teeth are sharp, but his mouth is soft, plush lips pressing against Spencer's.

Spencer kisses back because Brendon's mouth is clever, and his fingers are cool and smooth on Spencer's neck, and because Spencer's kind of always been a stupid fuck anyway.

When Brendon opens his mouth, his tongue licking slickly along Spencer's lower lip, Spencer startles. He stands, frozen, heart pounding wildly, before finally parting his lips. It's not so much having Brendon's tongue in his mouth; Brendon's tongue is cool and a little wicked, and when Spencer sucks gently, Brendon rumbles, low in his chest. It's not Brendon's tongue so much as that paralyzing moment when Brendon pulls his own tongue back, and it's Spencer's turn, Spencer's turn to lick past the row of Brendon's teeth, and vampires must be able to control the length of their fangs because Brendon didn't look all toothy before, not like he sometimes does, but still Spencer is scared.

Maybe Brendon can tell, because he licks Spencer's bottom lip again, fucking his tongue slowly into Spencer's mouth until Spencer's knees go all liquid and his hands reach out for Brendon, looking for some kind of purchase. He sets his fingers into the sharp curve of Brendon's hips, and with their tongues moving like this, rubbing together, wet and fast and dirty, Spencer forgets to think about it, and doesn't realize that he's fucking Brendon's mouth with his tongue until Brendon sucks hard, and Spencer moans, the sound muffled between them.

They draw apart slowly, in gradual stages, until finally their mouths aren't touching, even though their hips are still pressed close together. Spencer licks his own lips, which feel swollen and raw, and watches Brendon watching him.

He tilts down to kiss Brendon, just once, just gently, and when he pulls away, Brendon smiles.

Brendon's hand moves down from Spencer's neck to press into his back, and then his other arm comes up, and Spencer forgets to freak out when Brendon's head ends up pressed into his shoulder, close to his neck. He forgets to freeze and wait, because Brendon holds him tightly, and Spencer can't stop clinging back. He doesn't know what's wrong with himself, this strange kind of desperation, but he knows he's hard, knows that he can feel Brendon hard against his leg. Knows that Brendon is holding back, enough that Spencer can almost feel the tension in his body, the energy vibrating just beneath the surface. He doesn't know what Brendon's waiting for, but he does know that he's waiting for Brendon.

Brendon squeezes him even closer, then lets go slowly. "The sun is going to be up soon," he whispers.

Spencer steps back. Makes room for Brendon to get to the door. Stands in the doorway and watches as Brendon walks down the hall, and doesn't think too hard about how, just for a moment, he wishes he was going with Brendon instead of still stuck here in his apartment.

\--

 _nine_.

He does take a cab.

Spencer catches the door, following behind the woman who walks into the building before him, so he doesn't have to press the buzzer to be let in. He takes the elevator and then walks to Brendon's condo. The door is open a little bit, and Spencer pushes it open as he calls out, "Hello? Brendon?"

All of the lights are off, and Spencer feels along the wall, trying to find the light switch. He calls again, "Brendon?" and he can hear, faintly, Brendon respond with, "In here."

There's a lamp turned on in the living room, and Spencer can see Brendon, standing in the middle of the room. Brendon winces as he struggles to pull off his shirt, and when he finally gets if over his head, Spencer can see gashes and bruises on his skin. Something tightens in his chest.

"What happened?" Spencer asks quietly. Brendon's still bleeding; red drips down from his chest onto the floor. He steels himself then asks, "Did you fight Pete?"

"No, not Pete," Brendon says. "It was one of the Punks."

"Another vampire did this to you?" Spencer asks.

"Yeah," Brendon says. "But, I killed him, so--"

Spencer lets out a breath, and walks closer towards Brendon. He looks even worse up close, his skin peeling back from the long gash that curves along his ribcage. Even where he isn't bleeding, his skin is more bruised than not.

Brendon has a first aid kit on the couch, and he turns around and fumbles with a roll of gauze.

"Dude, are you going to be okay?" Spencer asks.

Brendon nods. "I heal fast," he says. "Just have to stop the bleeding."

The cut that's bleeding the worse is the one around his ribs, so Spencer says, "Stop twisting around like that, you're making it worse." He takes the gauze form Brendon's hands and cuts off a long strip, folding it over on itself and pushing down on the cut. He uses his other hand to try and hold the skin together, and it's pretty fucking gross, honestly, but when he pulls away to get fresh gauze, the bleeding has already slowed considerably.

Spencer manages to tape some gauze over the wound, and it's the sloppiest bandaging imaginable, but at least Brendon doesn't bleed through the gauze.

"Where else?" he asks.

Brendon rolls his shoulders, like he's trying to get in touch with his body again. He says, "My leg," and when Spencer looks down, he can see that blood has soaked through the fabric of Brendon's pants.

"Take 'em off," he says, snipping the scissors he was using to cut the gauze in Brendon's general direction.

Brendon's hands are unsteady when he fumbles with the buttons on his pants, but he gets them off. Spencer motions for him to sit on the couch, and then kneels on the floor in front of him. He wraps the gauze all the way around his leg instead of trying to cut off strips.

"I don't know if I should do it tight to stop the bleeding, or leave it loose enough that it won't fuck with your circulation," Spencer says. "Wait, do you even have circulation?"

Brendon shrugs. "I guess I must, since I keep bleeding everywhere."

"Yeah, man, your room looks like a scene out of CSI," Spencer says. "That's going to be a lot of fun to clean up." He looks around and says, "Hey! For you, is this like the equivalent of the mess from a food fight?"

Brendon groans. "That was terrible," he says. He leans back against the couch.

"Anywhere else?" Spencer asks.

Brendon looks down. "Just kinda... everywhere, I guess. I don't think there's much that's still bleeding though."

Spencer picks up the bottle of rubbing alcohol, and shakes it. "You want me to disinfect you?" he offers.

"Are you implying that I'm dirty?" Brendon asks.

"Always."

Spencer folds up a cloth and wets it with the alcohol. Brendon's skin is caked with dried blood and dirt, so Spencer can't really see where the actual cuts are. He wipes carefully, in long strokes, trying to clean Brendon's skin. As the blood washes away, Spencer can see a whole lot of bruises, and some deep looking scrapes.

"Oh, nasty," Spencer says. "This is, like. An open wound. And I think you've got shit in it."

"I hit the ground pretty hard," Brendon says.

Spencer turns the cloth over and pours new rubbing alcohol over it. He sets it on the scrape and pushes down carefully. He doesn't know if it would be better to use a wiping motion and risk ripping new skin off, or to just press down and risk not cleaning all the dirt away. He doesn't know if vampires get skin infections.

He lifts the cloth up, and looks at the wound; it seems like some of the dirt is getting cleaned away. At least it hasn't started bleeding again.

He starts wiping carefully, and Brendon shifts on the couch. Spencer glances up quickly, but Brendon is staring straight ahead and he doesn't say anything. Spencer looks back down, and through the thin fabric of Brendon's underwear, he can see the outline of Brendon's cock, hard and straining against the fabric. Spencer startles for a minute, his mouth going dry, and then forces himself to blink.

Spencer looks back at the scrape and tries not to let himself glace down again. Instead, he lifts his gaze back to Brendon's face. Brendon's jaw is clenched tight, but he still stares forward, not looking over to Spencer.

Spencer pours more alcohol onto the cloth, blotting over the wound. He doesn't look at Brendon's face when he asks, "Doesn't this hurt?"

"Yes," Brendon says, and doesn't elaborate further.

Spencer finishes, then busies himself with packing the first aid kit back up. Brendon walks to his bedroom and when he comes back, he's fully clothed again.

"Thanks for the help," Brendon says, as he sits again and starts lacing up his shoes, leaning over gingerly.

"Sure," Spencer says. Brendon finishes tying the first shoe, then starts on the other one. "Where are you going?"

Brendon finishes with the laces and then looks up at Spencer. His face is blank when he says, "I need to feed."

"What?" Spencer asks. "You have to-- _Now_?"

"I bled out all over my living room, and that was just once I got here. It probably took me half an hour to get back."

"What about the guy?" Spencer asks. "The Punk you killed. Aren't his friends going to be looking for you?"

"Yeah, probably," Brendon says. "I have to go though."

"Are you going to kill someone?" Spencer asks.

Brendon shrugs. His voice is kind when he says, "It's not-- It's more that we can't leave any witnesses, right? Can't have someone going back to the police with puncture marks on their neck and a story about someone drinking their blood."

Spencer's palms are wet.

Brendon turns and starts walking to the door, calling over his shoulder, "If you hang out here for a bit, I'll walk you home when I get back. It won't take me too long." Spencer can see the pained effort in his movements, though the longer he walks, the easier it seems to be for him to hide it.

Spencer considers waiting until Brendon is gone and then heading for home alone. He thinks about waiting for Brendon to get back, so that Brendon can come with him. It's late, and maybe Brendon makes for a strange kind of protection, but it's still safer with him than when Spencer's by himself. Thinks of waiting until Brendon comes back, and he'll probably be feeling better then, full of someone's blood, with one more body hidden somewhere.

Spencer doesn't raise his voice, because he knows that Brendon will be able to hear him. He looks at the ground and mumbles, "Just tonight. Just this once," and Brendon freezes, then turns around.

He doesn't pretend like he doesn't understand what Spencer is saying, and he doesn't make Spencer say the words out loud. He walks over to Spencer, and sits back down on the couch. Spencer is still standing, and Brendon looks small when he's seated. Spencer sits down on the other end of the couch, and wipes his hands on his pants.

"Just a little bit," he says, rubbing his palms over the fabric again.

Brendon looks over at Spencer's hands, and then his face and says, "It wouldn't be hard for me to find someone."

Spencer shakes his head. "You're just going to take a little bit?" He clears his throat and says, "You're not going to kill me tonight, right?" -- trying to turn it into a joke, with limited success.

Brendon says, "No, I'm not going to kill you tonight."

Now that Brendon knows he doesn't have to go out, he looks worse, like he's stopped pretending that it doesn't hurt. His face is porcelain, except for the long scrape down his cheekbone, and the bruises spread over his neck.

He turns to Spencer and says, "Come here," instead of crowding into Spencer's space, which Spencer appreciates.

Spencer doesn't move though. He clenches his hands into fists, and then relaxes his fingers. "Not my neck," Spencer says.

Brendon asks, "You don't like having your neck touched?" He reaches out and runs a finger lightly down the skin of Spencer's neck, then trails it over his collarbone.

Spencer doesn't flinch. "No," he says. "Just-- Not my neck. Maybe, maybe like this." He scoots a little further back, then pulls Brendon towards him, encouraging Brendon to twist around, until he's leaning against Spencer, his back to Spencer's chest.

Spencer exhales, then lifts his arm up, turning his hand so that his wrist is facing out, towards Brendon. Brendon hand catches around Spencer's forearm, holding firmly, but not enough that Spencer couldn't pull away if he wanted to.

Spencer's hand shakes visibly, and he curls his fingers into a fist to try and hide the trembling. Brendon's other hand reaches up to wrap his fingers around Spencer's hand, circling Spencer's fist lightly. He pulls gently, coaxing Spencer to wrap his arm closer around Brendon's body, and then Brendon dips his head down and presses his lips to Spencer's pulse.

Spencer wants to pull away, wants to run out of the room because this moment of waiting is more tension than he can bear. He makes himself hold still though.

Brendon moves his lips from the fat pulse point on Spencer's wrist to another spot, further up. His tongue comes out to lick the skin in a broad stroke, and Spencer's breath catches in his throat. Brendon presses his lips down, before opening his mouth, his tongue coming out again, and then the gentle pressure of his teeth. He starts biting down, slowly, and the pressure is so steady that Spencer relaxes a little. It's easier when he knows what's coming, when he can expect the constant pressure downward instead of having to tense against some unknown pain. The bite hurts, and it starts hurting more, and then Brendon gives a little nip and breaks the skin. It takes the space of a breath before it starts to sting, but even when it does, it's not too bad. Brendon's teeth are sharp, and they cut the skin cleanly.

Brendon closes his mouth against the wound and lets the blood flow into his mouth, not sucking to draw it out faster. Spencer can feel it every time Brendon swallows, and that seems to happen infrequently.

Spencer relaxes his arm, letting Brendon hold up the weight instead of trying to do so himself. He loosens his fist, even though Brendon's hand against his own means that the fingers stay curled together.

Brendon slides his mouth a little further down, and then Spencer can feel the press of his teeth again. He does the same thing he did before: biting down slowly to let Spencer get used to the pressure, then nipping lightly to break the skin. He seems to be letting the cuts bleed and then close on their own, instead of trying to open then up again. Spencer thinks that maybe it hurts less that way, and is grateful.

Brendon's tongue traces small circles, licking over the puncture points. He moves to another spot and does the same thing as before, with the careful biting and nipping, and now that Spencer knows what to expect, he relaxes further into the couch.

He whispers, "Just a sec," and then moves his leg, bending it at the knee and scooting backwards so that Brendon is sitting between his thighs instead of beside him. The strain is less on Spencer's arm this way. Brendon waits for him to settle again, before opening his mouth to Spencer's skin. Spencer can't really see what Brendon's doing, but he thinks that there is a line of little marks on his arm; it feels like Brendon is moving up in even increments.

Brendon bites a little deeper now; the pain is a little sharper. Spencer is ready for it though, his head starting to float off somewhere else. His arm hurts, but everywhere else is soft and liquid, and the easy feeling just gets stronger each time Brendon bites. Spencer sighs, opening his legs a little wider and letting his body catch more of Brendon's weight, as Brendon leans back into him.

Brendon sucks for the first time and there is this _surge_ that Spencer wasn't expecting. He gasps and jerks a little, right when Brendon's teeth are cutting through the skin, and because he moved, Brendon ends up ripping deeper than he likely meant too. He pulls away, immediately after, turning his head to look back at Spencer.

Spencer glances at his own arm. He's bleeding and the blood is starting to slide down to the crook of his elbow, but it doesn't look to bad. Nothing that couldn't be cleaned up with a Kleenex. He looks at Brendon, and Brendon's eyes are glowing almost yellow. His mouth is smeared with Spencer's blood, and even though his cheeks are pale, his lips are dark, dark red. His mouth is open a little bit, and Spencer can see just the tip of his tongue.

Spencer whispers, "It's okay; keep going," and Brendon quickly lowers his head back down. He licks up the spilled blood first, then fastens his mouth to the wound, and this time when he sucks, Spencer is ready for it. He's ready for it, but there's still that same surge, only stronger this time, and Spencer's body curls forward, in towards Brendon.

Brendon keeps sucking and it's like there's a pull from all over Brendon, not just from the suction on his mouth, and Spencer wants to be _closer_. He leans down until his forehead is resting on the back of Brendon's shoulders, Spencer's back bowing sharply. Spencer's other hand comes up to grab Brendon's arm, the one that's holding Spencer's right hand. He grabs Brendon's arm, almost hugging Brendon from behind, and when Brendon sucks hard, at least there is something for Spencer to cling to. His erection digs into Brendon's lower back and every time Spencer shifts forward, there's a pressure against his cock, which is good, which is a relief, but nothing like that of Brendon's mouth.

Brendon lifts Spencer's arm up higher, his own head tipping back, and Spencer can see a little trail of blood slide down from the corner of Brendon's mouth. He watches that, watches Brendon's lips, and his hips keep rocking forward, the rhythmic suckling of Brendon's mouth translating directly to a throb of Spencer's cock.

Spencer makes a little noise into Brendon's shirt, holding on tighter with his free hand. Brendon moves his mouth to a new spot of skin and bites right in, no slow build up, and the bite is this bright flash of sensation, and it hurts, Spencer knows this, but his head is so floaty and his cock is so hard, and he moans into Brendon's back.

This time when Brendon sucks, Spencer whimpers, and his hips jerk forward. Spencer's not sure how much more he can take without-- _something_ , he doesn't even know what, but he's not sure how much more he can take before this not-quite-enough feeling overwhelms him completely.

Brendon finishes with the bite, but instead of sinking his teeth in again, he starts licking in long strokes over Spencer's forearm, cleaning up the skin, soothing the wounds. He lingers over each puncture point, tonguing the new scabs, and the sensation of his tongue creates a dull ache that kind of throbs, and kind of makes Spencer wants to push his arm up harder into Brendon's teeth.

Brendon sets Spencer's arm down gently, and moves away from Spencer, not off the couch, but slowly separating their bodies. Without Brendon to lean into, Spencer realizes how woozy he's feeling. He sways a little, and then leans back more firmly to the couch. He nestles into the arm, slowly sliding lower. He pulls up his other leg, so that his whole body is on the couch.

Brendon has turned around to regard Spencer. When Spencer stops shifting, Brendon reaches out a hand, and runs his thumb down the line of scabs on Spencer's inner arm. Then he lifts his hand to run his thumb over the line of Spencer's jaw.

Spencer feels embarrassed asking, but his body is all floaty, except for the steady throb between his legs, and Spencer says, "Can we just lie here for a minute?"

Brendon nods, and waits for Spencer to stretch out all the way before lying down beside him. The couch is large, but there isn't enough room for them both to lie without squishing together. Brendon's arm wraps firmly around Spencer's waist, and he holds his head up with his other arm, his elbow bent and chin resting on his palm. He looks down at Spencer, and Spencer kind of misses when Brendon's body was still between his legs and he has something to grind against, but before he can work that thought through to anything concrete, Spencer's eyes slip closed and he falls fast asleep.

\--

When he wakes, he has no idea how much time has passed, or where he is. He opens his eyes, and slowly focuses on Brendon, sitting on the edge of the couch and staring down at him. The room is dark except for the small lamp on the coffee table, and Brendon's eyes flash a warm yellow.

Spencer licks his lips, then pushes himself back until he's propped up against the arm of the couch. He blinks and few times, and tries to wake up enough to understand what's going on.

"I'm hungry," Brendon says. His voice is low. Spencer doesn't think his dick ever stopped throbbing, and hearing Brendon's voice makes that surge thing happen again, almost as much as Brendon sucking did.

"'kay," says Spencer, sleepily. "Not my neck."

Brendon smiles at him, all sharp teeth and soft lips, and he touches Spencer's arm, lying on the couch, and, when Spencer nods, he helps Spencer lift it up until he can reach with his mouth. It's the same arm as before, and Spencer wonders if he's still going to be sore from last time; wonders, but doesn't care.

Brendon's tongue runs over his skin, and it feels warmer this time, like Spencer's blood has heated him. Warmer and wet and soft when he licks, and Spencer's hip shift up, rocking into the air. He wishes that there was something for him to rock against.

Spencer's skin itches now, and when Brendon bites in, the pain is sharp and sweet. He sucks steadily, and Spencer's eyes roll back in his head.

Brendon drinks from that bite for what feels like a long time, and Spencer can't stop shifting on the couch, looking for some kind of friction and finding none. He pants, his head spinning fiercely, and the throb of his cock is more of an ache now.

Spencer gasps then mutters, "Brendon, Brendon." Brendon moves his mouth up a little and bites down again, and Spencer's voice cracks over the syllables.

He gropes at Brendon's shoulder and tugs, keeps tugging until Brendon lifts his mouth away, his lips slick and his eyes unfocused. Spencer pulls on him, and chants, "Brendon, Brendon," tugging until Brendon finally lowers himself down to the couch, stretching out on top of Spencer, and Spencer shudders at the weight of Brendon's body pressing against him.

Spencer tries to give Brendon his arm again, but the angle is awkward now. Instead, Brendon pushes up the sleeve of Spencer's t-shirt and bites into the soft white skin of Spencer's upper arm. Spencer lifts his arm out to the side, rolling his shoulder backward so that Brendon's mouth can reach the inner skin. It hurts more here, the pain translating into something almost like a tickle. Spencer's other hand tangles into Brendon's hair, cupping the back of Brendon's head and trying to pull him in closer.

Spencer spreads his legs wider, rocking up into the solid press of Brendon's body. He says, "Oh," and Brendon hums something into Spencer's skin.

Spencer ducks his head down, neck curving painfully, until he can touch Brendon's head with his own. His skin is crawling, little flashes of sensation every time Brendon sucks, and Spencer can't take it any more.

He whispers, "Please, please," clinging to Brendon's upper back and hoping that Brendon knows what to do.

Brendon moves his mouth to bite one last time, and he sucks hard so that there's surge after surge and it keeps on building, and Spencer can't some making these high, desperate noises, until finally Brendon licks over the cuts one last time. He lifts his mouth away and Spencer doesn't know if he's grateful or anxious to have it back, but either way he needs more.

He presses his forehead to Brendon's and hopes, and hopes, and hopes that Brendon knows what to do because he _can't_. Brendon's eyes flash, and when his lips pull back Spencer can see his teeth, sharp teeth, soft mouth, and Spencer arches into the press of Brendon's body and aches for more.

Brendon snarls when Spencer rolls his hips up, staring down at Spencer for one more long moment before exploding into movement. He stands, leaning over Spencer and going straight for his pants, and Spencer just lifts his hips up to help Brendon get them down over his hips. Brendon pulls his underwear down too, until Spencer is bare. He braces one hand on the couch and ducks down to lick the precome off Spencer's cock before pulling back, tugging his own pants off and then throwing himself back on top of Spencer.

They rub together, and Spencer can't stop moaning at the feel of Brendon's bare skin. Brendon's hands settle on Spencer's waist, helping Spencer tilt his hips up, and Spencer does, he opens for Brendon and doesn't try to move away from his hands, but he reaches down to touch Brendon's wrist with soft fingers, and whispers, "I can't take it without lube."

Brendon doesn't move at first, and Spencer closes his eyes and waits, but finally Brendon's hands let go, and he pulls away from Spencer, standing up, walking over somewhere else, and Spencer wants him back, misses his weight and the feel of his skin, because now that Brendon's gone, Spencer's hips are rocking up into the air again.

Brendon comes back though, and he's holding a bottle, and when he settles on top of Spencer again, Spencer sobs out, "Thank you," because Brendon came back, and this time his fingers are reaching between Spencer's legs and they're slick, and it hurts when he slides two in right away, but it doesn't tear. The pain settles into a throb, settles into a sharp flare of pleasure when Brendon crooks his fingers, and Spencer's isn't open yet, but he's slick, and Brendon's cock is slick, and it's hard to take him when Brendon pushes inside, but Spencer just bares down against the burning, rocks into it, even though it hurts, and wails when Brendon's hips snap forward.

He needs, and he needs and Brendon is fucking him, and Spencer can't stop clinging to Brendon's shoulders, trying to pull him even closer. Brendon fucks him hard, and it never stops hurting, but it's the _more_ that Spencer needed.

There's no room on the couch, and Spencer is caught between the arm and the back and Brendon on top of him. He can't move, and his head keeps bumping up against the arm rest, and it's hard to breathe like this, so much of Brendon's weight resting on top of him. Spencer reaches his arm up above his head, trying to stop the bump of his head. When he twists his arm, one of the cuts tears open again, and Brendon's eyes snap to it immediately. He inhales deeply, like he can smell the blood, and he reaches up, stretching his neck until he can fix his mouth onto Spencer's arm, licking up the blood, sucking on the newly opened cut.

Brendon's mouth is wet, and the pressure as he sucks goes straight to Spencer's cock, that same surge, surge, surge, but more now, because Brendon's cock deep in his ass is completing the circuit. The fingers of Spencer's other hand dig in hard to Brendon's shoulders, and his back arches, and when Brendon sucks hard, Spencer can feel it all down his body until it pools in his dick, and Spencer comes. Brendon keeps sucking, keeps fucking him, and it's _more_ until it's too much, until Spencer's cock jerks again, dry this time and more intense because of it, and when Brendon comes, he bites Spencer's arm, teeth setting in, but not enough to break the skin.

Brendon rolls to the side, and Spencer gasps for air, but before his breathing has evened out, he has passed out again, sandwiched between Brendon and the back of the couch.

\--

 _ten_.

Spencer wakes up sore and disgustingly sticky. He stretches out on the couch and winces, then makes a face when he feels the slickness between his thighs, the come that has dried on his belly. His head throbs and aches, worse than any hangover he's ever felt. He sits up gingerly, and from a chair on the other side of the room, Brendon says, "Morning, sunshine."

"You hate the sunshine," Spencer mumbles. He squints at the face of his watch. "And it isn't morning."

Sitting up is not the most comfortable thing Spencer's ever had to do, and it's worse when he bends over, trying to grab his clothes off of the floor. He pulls his pants up onto his lap, which affords him a little modesty at least, and then sits and blinks for a few minutes, waiting for the fuzziness of sleep to sharpen into awareness again.

He reaches down and absently scratches at his forearm, which itches like crazy. His fingernail catches one of the scabs, tearing if off, and Spencer looks down and says, "Damn." Blood oozes up and starts to trickle down his arm.

Brendon stands, and walks over, his footsteps silent like he's moving carefully to try not to scare Spencer away. He kneels down on the floor in front of Spencer, resting back on his heels, his feet crossed under him, and reaches out slowly to grasp Spencer's arm, pulling even slower once his hand is around Spencer's wrist. He gently tugs until Spencer's arm is stretched out, and then leans forward and licks lightly over the trail of blood, his tongue barely brushing Spencer's skin.

He licks up the blood that has spilled, then moves to the wound. Brendon doesn't close his mouth and suck; each time he licks, Spencer can see Brendon's tongue, dark and wet with blood, before he closes his mouth quickly to swallow, then his tongue darting quickly back out again.

Brendon finishes licking the blood clean, then looks up at Spencer. "These itchy?" he asks.

"Yeah," Spencer says.

"You want me to do something so they'll heal faster?" Brendon offers.

Spencer looks down at Brendon, and then nods.

"Okay," Brendon says. He bites his own lip, dragging his sharp teeth across the flesh until blood wells up, and then kisses Spencer's arm, bloody imprints onto each of the puncture marks.

The itching starts to fade away almost immediately.

"You couldn't have done this last night?" Spencer asks.

Brendon looks up and licks his own blood off of his lips. "Maybe I wanted to know what you'd wake up with my marks on you," he says.

Spencer exhales loudly.

Brendon runs his finger over his bottom lip, then touches it to the marks higher up on Spencer's arm, the ones he couldn't reach with his mouth.

Spencer looks down at his arm, his skin smeared with blood. "How long do I have to leave this?" he asks. The backs of his thighs are sticking to the couch, his hair is matted to the top of his head, and Spencer wants a shower like he's never wanted a shower before.

"Not too long," Brendon says. "You want to use my shower?"

Spencer nods. "Maybe that will help my head."

"Headache?" Brendon asks.

"Yeah."

Brendon starts asking, "You want me to--" and maybe Spencer already knows where this is going because he just leans his head down and licks Brendon's bottom lip, his mouth still open, and then he licks Brendon's tongue just because he wants to. Brendon's blood tastes like blood, tastes like copper and is hard to swallow back, but Spencer does.

Brendon kisses back, and when Spencer finally comes up for air, he realizes that the pounding in his head has settled.

He blinks, surprised. "That actually worked," Spencer says.

Brendon just winks. He pushes up to his feet and reaches out a hand towards Spencer. "Shower?"

\--

Spencer showers and Brendon must use the chance to clean up, because when Spencer steps out of the bathroom, Brendon's living room looks less like the scene of a massacre. There's still blood staining the carpets, but at least there aren't bloody towels lying on the floor anymore.

"I can't believe I slept all the way until sundown," Spencer says.

"You ready for me to walk you home?" Brendon asks.

"I guess. I've already missed all my classes, but I should get back and feed the dogs."

\--

Spencer shouldn't be surprised when they're attacked as they walk down the street, away for Brendon's apartment, but he is.

He lets out a little scream as someone rushes them from behind, and then a low groan when Brendon shoves him aside, and he hit the ground hard.

The other vampire -- a Punk, he must be a Punk, with the piercings and the way he's trying to kill Brendon and all -- snarls at Brendon then punches him in the face. Spencer winces just from watching it, but Brendon doesn't flinch.

Brendon's a better fighter than Spencer would have guessed. The other vampire is larger than Brendon by a lot, but Brendon has him on the ground in minutes. Brendon wraps his head around the other vampires head, bashing it back into the concrete, and Spencer doesn't know if that's enough to kill a vampire, but the guy stops moving after that.

Brendon stands, wipes the blood off his chin with the side of his hand, and says to Spencer, "Come on, let's get you home before someone else comes."

Spencer stands quickly, stumbling in his hurry to get to Brendon's side.

"You okay?" he asks.

Brendon nods. "Fine."

As they walk down the street, Spencer can hear screaming coming from up ahead. Brendon says in a low voice, just as they're approaching the alley, "Don't look," but Spencer's eyes shift over, anyway.

There's a vampire, Spencer guesses it's a vampire anyway. There's a body, crouched over another body, and the body on the ground is the one screaming. There are wet, wet noises, and in the brief glance that Spencer gets, it actually looks like the vampire is chewing on the other person's neck. Not drinking, not biting, but chewing. Crouched over like a dog and gnawing away as the person screams.

Spencer thinks that he might throw up, his steps slowing unintentionally, but Brendon grabs his elbow and hurries him forward.

"Breathe," Brendon says, and Spencer tries to find air again.

"Is that-- Is that what-- When you, is that what you--" he stutters. This is not a question that he should be asking.

Brendon looks over at him, eyes sharp and hand tight around Spencer's arm.

"No," Brendon says firmly. "No, that's not what it's like."

Spencer nods, letting Brendon's strong hand pull him along.

"That vampire is-- That's not what most vampires are like," Brendon says.

"What was wrong with him?" Spencer asks, trying to calm the frantic racing of his heart.

"It's like--" Brendon considers for a minute. "It matters how a vampire is changed, right? Like, so for the ones that are really scared when they're turned, that never really goes away, kind of, and fear makes people really aggressive, and really stupid."

Spencer nods. He asks, "Do you know what it is that made Pete different?"

"When Pete was changed, he had a whole lot of unfinished business," Brendon says. "It's not like he's, you know, more human or anything, just that he wasn't ready to stop fighting, and wasn't ready to let go of the things he was still looking for."

"Like what?" Spencer asks.

"Like Patrick," Brendon says. "Like the band. Like the human life that he was trying to set up. Mostly Patrick though, I think."

"That would make sense," Spencer says, then asks, "What about you?"

"What was I like when I was changed?" Brendon clarifies.

Spencer nods.

"I was--" Brendon look over as he considers the question. "I was ready to belong somewhere, I guess. I don't know, it's not exactly like that for everyone. I wasn't scared, though, and there wasn't anything left that I was still holding on to."

They both fall quiet, and Spencer listens to the sounds of their footsteps as they walk down the street.

\--

Brendon stands and waits while Spencer walks up the stairs in front of his apartment building. Spencer pauses at the top, looking back towards Brendon and wondering if he should ask if Brendon is going to be all right. Brendon can look after himself; Brendon has demonstrated that he knows what he's doing. Spencer wonders what the injuries on his body look like now. He hasn't seen them since last night, and he wonders if Brendon is healed yet. Spencer doesn't know how fast vampires heal, but the marks on Spencer's arms have already healed to nothing but faint pink circles.

Spencer wants to ask what Brendon is planning on doing for the rest of the night, but he's pretty sure he knows what the answer would be, and Spencer doesn't really want to hear Brendon say that he's going hunting. Doesn't want to try and picture what Brendon would look like feeding. Brendon said that it wasn't like that other vampire, which is somewhat comforting, but Spencer doesn't really want to think about Brendon feeding on someone else the same way he drank from Spencer, and either way, it's just better if he doesn't ask.

In the end, Spencer says nothing, just waves to Brendon, who calls up, "Night." Spencer lets himself into his apartment building, walks up the starts to his place, feeds both of the dogs, refills their water bowls, then stands in front of his window, looking out into the night. It's dark, and Spencer can't see anyone. Spencer wonders if anyone can see him.

\--

Spencer falls asleep, just as the sun is starting to light up the cracks that aren't covered by his drapes. When he wakes up, the room is bright, and the skin on his arm is smooth white, all of the cuts completely healed.

\--

 _eleven_.

Spencer wonders how many days it's been since he went to class. He can't remember what day of the week it is today, but he rushes around his apartment, trying to get ready to leave because he needs groceries, and the grocery store is going to close soon. Spencer only woke up an hour ago, but the store closes at seven, and if he doesn't make it before then, there will be nothing for him to eat. Maybe he could order pizza or something.

He walks over to see if he has the number for pizza programmed into his cell phone, but finds instead that his cell phone is again out of batteries. He sets it back down, right beside the charger without bothering to plug it back in.

He does make it before the store closes, with twenty minutes to spare. He buys cereal and bagels and juice and pushes his cart around aimlessly, trying to find something that looks appealing to eat. Spencer does his best grocery shopping when he's stoned; as it is, nothing looks appetizing.

A voice announces that the store is closing in five minutes, so Spencer pushes his mostly empty cart up to the cash registers.

\--

It doesn't take Spencer long to unpack his groceries. His dogs come into the kitchen, looking up at him with big eyes, so he clips on their leashes and sets off for a walk. He knows that it's too late for him to be walking alone, but sticks close to his apartment block, and figures that he'll be safe enough.

He doesn't walk for long, but the dogs seem happy enough to head home, and they curl up under the coffee table in the living room when he lets them into the house. Spencer puts their leashes away, then walks and stands in front of his window again, hating how small his apartment seems, hating that he still can't see anything when he looks out into the night.

\--

It's late when Spencer phones for a cab, but he asks the driver to wait as he runs up to ring the buzzer to Brendon's condo, so that even if Brendon isn't there, he'll still have a ride home. He doesn't really think that Brendon's going to be home-- it's the middle of the night, and from what Spencer understands, there's a whole lot going on for Brendon right now-- but he answers when Spencer buzzes.

Spencer says, "Just a sec," runs off to pay the cabbie, and then Brendon buzzes him up.

"I didn't think you'd actually be here," Spencer says, when Brendon opens up his door.

Brendon lets him inside, and says, "I'm laying low, for now. Things are kind of fucked up."

"Is it-- What, like turf wars or something?" Spencer asks.

"Basically," Brendon says. "William has something planned though; it shouldn't drag on for too much longer."

"That's good?" Spencer says, raising his voice at the end to turn it into a question. The lines of what's good and what's bad have started to blur a little in his head. Ryan said that Pete said that William is bad, but that doesn't mean as much to Spencer as it would have once.

Spencer follows Brendon into his living room, then stands, feeling awkward all of the sudden. Brendon stoops over to pick up a pillow from the floor, throwing it onto the couch, then turns to stand in front of Spencer.

Brendon is close enough to touch, and Spencer clears his throat and says in a low voice, "Brendon," and Brendon smiles, his lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth.

Spencer thinks that he should say something, or maybe that Brendon should say something, or at least that they shouldn't be standing in the middle of Brendon's living room. Brendon must be thinking something similar, because he wraps his fingers around Spencer's wrist and says, "Come on," leading Spencer over to his bedroom.

Spencer doesn't say anything, just follows Brendon, and when Brendon turns, pressing close to Spencer as they stand by the foot of the bed, Spencer bends down and meets Brendon's mouth.

Brendon's teeth are sharp and long, and Spencer thinks it's his own blood he's tasting, but it's hard to tell. By the time Brendon pushes him back onto the bed, Spencer's lips feel pulverized.

Brendon crawls onto the bed, resting on Spencer's thighs so that Spencer can sit up enough for them to get his shirt off. Brendon's fingers are cool against his skin, but it's okay because Spencer is sweating anyway, his skin tight and too hot over his bones.

Brendon kisses Spencer's mouth, pulls back enough to look Spencer in the eye, then leans down to kiss him again. Spencer's hands come up to rest high on Brendon's thighs, fingers digging in, and Brendon's body comes down even more, covering Spencer's, pressing him into the mattress, and Spencer can't breathe. He can't breathe, but when Brendon licks up his neck, his tongue soothing up in a long line before he sets his teeth into Spencer's skin, at least there's a weight for Spencer to rub his hips up against.

He spreads his thighs wider so that there's more room for Brendon between his legs, then he wraps his heels around, trying to anchor Brendon to him. Brendon bruises him, but Spencer doesn't think the skin has broken yet.

He's sure of it when Brendon reaches up for his mouth again, and his lips don't taste like blood. Spencer lets Brendon kiss him, breathes only when the seal between their lips is broken, and by the time Brendon pulls away properly, Spencer's head is floating, light and warm and far away.

Brendon's teeth are back on his neck, and when they finally pierce the skin, Spencer shudders so hard the bed squeaks. He wraps his arms around Brendon's back, his calves along the backs of Brendon's knees, and he holds on as tightly as he can, because Brendon is sucking, and that _surge_ is flooding his entire body, even stronger now than it was when Brendon drank from his arm. Light prickles white hot behind Spencer's eyes, and he thinks he's burning up from inside. Brendon's cool mouth on his skin is such a relief, Spencer can't stop pulling his head back, trying to offer up more skin to Brendon.

Brendon moves his mouth a little and bites down again. Spencer moans loudly, and he can't stop, rubbing up against Brendon as hard as he can, trying to pull Brendon down against himself. He moans and Brendon bites down again, hard, and it hurts, and Spencer can't stop moaning, clinging to Brendon's shoulders and writhing.

Spencer rocks closer and closer to the edge, riding high on a giant wave until everything goes sparkly around the edges, fading in and out. Brendon moves away and Spencer doesn't know why. Brendon pulls back, and then his hand comes out, cupping underneath Spencer's head, holding him gently, Brendon's other wrist pressing to Spencer's mouth, all wet and slippery against Spencer's lips until Spencer finally opens his mouth. Brendon's blood is cool and soothes the dry burn crawling underneath Spencer's skin. Spencer swallows and swallows, even though his can feel his body going limp, floating further and further away. That feeling sucks, because he wants to be able to continue to hold Brendon close, to keep him near, but Spencer's hands are a long way off, and he just lets them go, lets them fly away, lets the cool feeling sink into his body and closes his eyes.

 

\--

 

EPILOGUE 

 

\--

~*~

Brendon lays Spencer's body on the bed. Spencer doesn't move and he doesn't breathe and even though Brendon has done this a couple of times before, he still hates the wait. He hates the worry that maybe he's done something wrong or it's not going to work or _something_ , even though he's had centuries to realize that even when things don't go as planned, there's always another plan around the corner, another chance to try at something better.

It doesn't feel like that with Spencer though; Brendon feels urgency like he hasn’t since youth.

Brendon watches Spencer's still form, even when the sun rises. It's hard to stay awake when the sun is high in the sky, and eventually Brendon passes out, too, but he wakes again before the sun has finished setting, and watches Spencer for hours longer until finally, finally Spencer stirs.

He opens his eyes, and his face scrunches up, confused and disoriented. Brendon knows that he will be hungry, that he'll be feral until he gets blood, and Brendon can't wait to take him on his first hunt. He knows that one day, Spencer won't even need to hunt, not really. The humans will come willingly.

Spencer makes a low noise, his hands coming up to touch awkwardly at his forehead, before he lowers them back down onto the mattress, and pushes himself up until he's sitting. He looks over, finally focusing his gaze on Brendon, and some of the confusion clears from his face.

He smiles.

"You're hungry," Brendon says. "We'll go hunt now; you'll feel better once you've fed. You might not remember everything at first, but don't panic, it will all come back. How do you feel?"

Spencer says, "I do remember," then throws himself onto Brendon, mashing their mouths together before he gets the angle right, and is able to press Brendon's mouth open, kissing him hungrily. Brendon sucks on Spencer's tongue and Spencer moans, loudly. His hands are still uncoordinated, and he paws at Brendon, fingers digging hard into Brendon's skin as he tries to pull Brendon closer. He tucks his hand under Brendon's shirt, then gets frustrated, trying to rip the shirt away. Brendon pulls it off himself, then helps Spencer with his pants. Before feeding, Spencer will only have a fraction of the strength that he'll have. As it is though, his hands grab hard enough that it hurts, hurts enough that Brendon's cock is starting to leak.

Brendon's lip splits under the pressure of Spencer's teeth, and Spencer snarls, licking the blood that runs down Brendon's chin, then sucking on the lip until the blood starts to clot. He tongues the wound, but he doesn't try and reopen it. He even manages to pull away, which shocks Brendon. Brendon's seen newly-turneds that have had to be put down because they couldn't otherwise be stopped once they had the taste of blood, even if it was just the blood of another vampire. Vampire blood tastes strong and sweet, but there's little nourishment, nothing that other vampires can use for substance. Still, the taste is enough that most new vampires can't pull back, the hunger too strong.

Spencer pulls back though, licking his own lips, and then grabbing Brendon's shoulder hard and uses it to flip Brendon over, pushing him face down into the bed. Brendon could fight Spencer off if he wanted to, but he'd rather see what Spencer wants here.

What Spencer seems to want is to get Brendon's pants down, fingers tugging at the waistband. Spencer makes a frustrated noise but eventually manages to pull the pants down past the curve of Brendon's ass, since Brendon didn't wear a belt into bed. They get caught around Brendon's knees, but Spencer doesn't seem to mind that, letting go of Brendon's pants and putting his hands back on Brendon's skin.

He crouches over Brendon's body, and Brendon turns his head to the side, watching Spencer out of the corner of his eye and wondering if he should put a stop to this. This, whatever this is, is not what is supposed to be happening. Brendon could have Spencer bent over; he knows some sires who hold their newly-turneds down and fuck them, while the fledglings are still so hungry that the wait is unbearable. Spencer on top of him is-- Brendon should probably flip around and switch their positions. He doesn't, though.

He kicks his legs a little, pushing his pants further down. Spencer spits into his hand, and Brendon can hear him stroking his cock. He spits again, and then his hands are on Brendon's ass, holding him open, holding him steady as Spencer starts to fuck his way inside. It hurts, and Brendon growls and pushes back.

Spencer pushes all the way inside with his first thrust, and then ducks his head down to gasp, and then bite, into Brendon's shoulder. He sinks his teeth through Brendon's skin, then licks as blood starts to run down Brendon's back. Brendon can feel him licking in long strokes as he follows the trails of blood, all the while rocking against Brendon's ass, his cock all the way inside. He drags his teeth over Brendon's skin, hard enough to scratch but not enough to really draw blood.

Brendon arches his back and pushes his ass up, and Spencer takes the hint and starts fucking him harder, with short, rough strokes. Brendon has one hand to the wall, bracing himself so that his head doesn't bump, and the other on the sheets to push himself back against Spencer.

Spencer keeps setting his teeth into Brendon's skin, but just deep enough to tear open the surface veins, not enough to get anything major. Brendon knows that it's not that Spencer just doesn't know how to bite, because Spencer uses the exact same pressure every time he bites down. Brendon skin is slick from sweat, and from Spencer licking him, maybe from blood, though Brendon thinks that Spencer is cleaning up most of what drips down his back.

Spencer keeps sucking on Brendon's skin, even on places that he hasn't bitten, sucking bruises down the knobs of Brendon's spine, the expanse of his shoulder blades. Brendon moves the hand away from the sheets and down to his cock, and Spencer moans even louder than Brendon does, when Brendon's hand finally makes contact. Spencer presses his face into Brendon's neck and shudders, and Brendon know that he's clamping down around Spencer's cock as he gets closer to coming. Spencer keeps rocking, but not quite dragging his cock in and out, and even after all this, Brendon think that Spencer hasn't torn him, at least not badly. Brendon's ass throbs, but he doesn't think he's bleeding, wouldn't care even if he was, but he's shocked at the restraint that Spencer has shown, even now when he must be half-crazed with hunger.

Spencer presses his open mouth to the thin skin of Brendon's neck, but he doesn't use his teeth. He doesn't bite the back of Brendon's neck either, nothing as possessive as that. He moans into Brendon's slick skin and mumbles, "Thank you, thank you," right behind Brendon's ear. Brendon wishes that he had a hand free with which to pull Spencer closer, but he doesn't. Instead, he pushes back hard onto Spencer's cock, bucking as much as he can.

Spencer fucks him, and the dry slide of his cock is raw and sharp and Brendon comes quickly, twisting the head of his own cock between his fingers, then fucking forward into his fist, back onto Spencer.

Spencer slows down a little after Brendon comes, but he doesn't stop, fucking Brendon through his orgasm then far enough past it that Brendon starts to consider grabbing his cock again and trying to force himself through round two. Brendon's back hurts and his shoulders and his ass, and the noises Spencer makes are so sweet, even as he's gnawing on Brendon's skin. He shouts when he comes, and then collapses on top of Brendon, which would only matter if Brendon actually needed to breathe.

Spencer stays there until he finishes shaking, and then he rolls away, pulling Brendon with him. Brendon turns in his arms, and then climbs on top once Spencer has settled to his back. He leans down and licks the blood from Spencer's mouth, ducks and fastens his mouth just under Spencer's jaw then bites him sharply, dragging his teeth so that blood wells up in a long scratch. He licks it all up, and then kisses Spencer again, the taste of both of them on Brendon's tongue now, and Spencer moans even louder than when he came.

Brendon doesn't want to stop kissing, and even though he'd rather push Spencer's legs open to fuck him now, or maybe just settle on Spencer's lap and grind down on Spencer's still-hard cock, he makes himself pull away.

He says, "We'll hunt, and then we'll come back," and Spencer smiles up at him.

\--

Spencer lets the body fall to the ground then looks over to Brendon, like he's checking what he should do next.

"We should hide them somewhere," Brendon says. He grabs the wrists of the girl he was feeding on and pulls the body behind him, towards the bushes.

"They'll be easy to find here," Spencer notes, after he pushes his body behind a tree.

"Yeah, but they're not right out in the open, at least," Brendon says. "This is Dandy territory, so it doesn't matter too much. If we were somewhere else in the city, we'd have to be more careful."

Spencer nods, listening intently.

They start walking down the street, and when they get to the streetlight, Spencer turns in the direction of Brendon's place.

Brendon catches his wrist and gives him a tug, leading him the other way.

"Where are we going?" Spencer asks, following along easily.

"Back to your apartment," Brendon says, "to get your dogs."

Spencer's face lights up. "The dogs! Yeah, we can go get the dogs." He looks over at Brendon and says, "You remembered."

"I told you I would," Brendon says.

Spencer eyes darken, and he moves towards Brendon, leaning in, and Brendon lifts up on his toes, meeting Spencer halfway.

Spencer kisses hard, but Brendon pulls away before they can do more than that.

"Later," Brendon promises. "When there aren't so many people around."

"Yeah," Spencer agrees. "Later."

As they get close to Spencer's apartment, Brendon says, seriously, "Spence, the dogs might not recognize you any more, so you've got to be prepared, okay?"

"What do you mean?" Spencer asks.

"Now that you're--" Brendon can't help grinning to himself. "Now that you're like this, you'll smell different, and they might not know it's you. Animals get...weird. Sometimes. Around us. I've seen it happen before. So, just, if they start growling, we'll just open the door and leave them to find a new home, okay?"

Spencer frowns. "I guess, yeah. Okay."

They walk up the stairs towards Spencer's floor, walk down the hall, and Spencer pulls the key out of his pocket to unlock the door.

Inside, the dogs are both waiting, tails wagging. Spencer opens the door carefully, looking at Brendon and then the dogs. He steps forward, slowly, then drops down to a crouch, waiting for the dogs to come to him. Brendon stands back to wait and see what they do.

The dogs don't run at Spencer, not like they normally would, but they walk towards him easily enough. Milo noses Spencer's outstretched hand and Boba starts sniffing at the hem of Spencer's pants, and neither of them seem too concerned with Spencer's change, even if they are a little less friendly than usual.

Spencer starts petting them, and when he stands and walks to the kitchen to feed them, they both run after him, following close behind his heels. Spencer feeds them each two bowls of food to make up for being gone overnight, and when they're done eating, they crowd around Spencer again, like they're getting used to the new him already.

Spencer looks up at Brendon and says, "Is it okay if I bring them back?" and Brendon nods. Brendon's place isn't especially dog friendly, but as long as the dogs don't miss the sun, he doesn't mind bringing them home.

He walks over to Spencer, and throws an arm around his waist. Spencer's arm circles Brendon's shoulders and he leans their heads together briefly.

"You want to bring back anything else?" Brendon asks.

"Nah," Spencer says, "I've got all I want."

Spencer puts the dogs on their leashes, and locks his apartment up behind himself.

\--

As they walk down the street, each with a leash in his hand, Spencer looks over at Brendon, and says, "Hey, so about Ryan."

"Yeah?" Brendon asks.

"I'm pretty sure that he was into Pete before he realized that Pete was a -- whatever Pete is. A non-human-drinking vampire. I don't think Ryan knew about that part right away."

"No?" Brendon asks.

"No," Spencer says. "So, like, I was thinking, you know--"

He looks over at Brendon and grins.

Brendon stops in the middle of the sidewalk, surges up and kisses Spencer hard.

"If you make Ryan into a vampire, he can't live with us," Brendon says, smiling. "There won't be room if you're already bringing the dogs."

"Well, no," Spencer says, slyly. "I was thinking that he'd probably want to live with Jon."

Brendon reaches for Spencer's hand and finds it open and turned towards him. He threads their fingers together, and squeezes.

They leave the light of a street lamp, and when Spencer looks over, his eyes flash gold in the darkness. He says, "I think I'm still hungry," his lips already starting to pull away, exposing sharp teeth.

Brendon can feel his own teeth lengthening even though he's not hungry, just from looking at Spencer. Brendon squeezes his hand again, and smiles. "So, where does Ryan live?"


End file.
